This work brings together a comprehensive array of excavated archaeological sites in

the Lower Rhine Area. Their analysis shows that the succession of Late Mesolithic,Swifterbant culture, Hazendonk group and Vlaardingen culture societies represents acontinuous long-term tradition of inhabitation of the wetlands and wetland marginsof this area, forming a culturally continuous record of communities in the transitionto agriculture.After demonstrating the diversity of the Mesolithic, the subsequent developmentsregarding Neolithisation are studied from an indigenous perspective. Foregroundingthe relationship between local communities and the dynamic wetland landscape, thestudy shows that the archaeological evidence of regional inhabitation points to longterm flexible behaviour and pragmatic decisions being made concerning livelihood,food economy and mobility. This disposition also influenced how the novel elements ofNeolithisation were incorporated. Animal husbandry, crop cultivation and sedentismwere an addition to the existing broad spectrum economy but were incorporatedwithin a set of integrative strategies.For the interpretation of Neolithisation this study offers a complementary approachto existing research. Instead of arguing for a short transition based on the economicimportance of domesticates and cultigens at sites, this study emphasises the persistenttraditions of the communities involved. New elements, instead of bringing aboutradical changes, are shown to be attuned to existing hunter-gatherer practices. Bydocumenting indications of the mentalit of the inhabitants of the wetlands, it isdemonstrated that their mindset remained essentially Mesolithic for millennia.

persistent traditions

The adoption of agriculture is one of the major developments in human history.

Archaeological studies have demonstrated that the trajectories of Neolithisation inNorthwest Europe were diverse. This book presents a study into the archaeology ofthe communities involved in the process of Neolithisation in the Lower Rhine Area(5500-2500 cal BC). It elucidates the role played by the indigenous communities inrelation to their environmental context and in view of the changes that becomingNeolithic brought about.

Amkreutz

persistent traditions

ISBN: 978-90-8890-203-1

9 789088 902031

Sidestone

Sidestone Press

persistent traditionsA long-term perspective on communities in the process ofNeolithisation in the Lower Rhine Area (5500-2500 cal BC)

Luc Amkreutz was a member of the NWO (Malta Harvest) archaeological research project FromHardinxveld to Noordhoorn From Forager to Farmer between 2004 and 2008. He is currentlythe curator of the Prehistory collections of the National Museum of Antiquities. His researchinterests include the Mesolithic and Neolithic archaeology of Northwest Europe, ethnoarchaeologyand archaeological theory.

ISBN 978-90-8890-203-1

L.W.S.W. Amkreutz

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persistent traditions

Sidestone Press

persistent traditionsA long-term perspective on communities in the process ofNeolithisation in the Lower Rhine Area (5500-2500 cal BC)

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.F. Scott Fitzgerald -The Great Gatsby- (1925)Ah, but I was so much older thenIm younger than that nowBob Dylan -My Back Pages- (1964)Voor mijn (gravende) (voor)ouders

wetlands and river valley5.4.4.4 Alternative aspects of settlement structure

146146151156158

5.4.5 Settlement investment: redundancy

5.4.5.1 Density and intensity5.4.5.2 Feature variability5.4.5.3 Hearths and hearthpits5.4.5.4 Pits and postholes5.4.5.5 Dwellings and other structures5.4.5.6 Graves5.4.5.7 Other elements5.4.6 Late Mesolithic sites and settlement system in the LRA: definingsettlement grammar5.4.6.1 The southern coversands: consistent patterning5.4.6.2 The northern coversands: differences of degree5.4.6.3 Wetland (margin) and river valleys: a different type of

8.1 Introduction: integrative strategies and settlement systems

8.1.1 Site qualities and mobility: criteria

8.1.2 Defining the system

8.1.3 Late Mesolithic and Early Swifterbant (c. 6500-4500 cal BC)8.1.3.1 Attribution of function8.1.3.2 Different rates of residential mobility

378378381

8.1.4 Middle Swifterbant (c. 4500-3800 cal BC)

8.1.4.1 Attribution of function8.1.4.2 Absence of permanency

383383386

8.1.5 Hazendonk group and Late Swifterbant (c. 3800-3400 cal BC)8.1.5.1 Attribution of function8.1.5.2 Not all is permanent

388388392

8.1.6 Vlaardingen culture (c. 3400-2500 cal BC)

8.1.6.1 Attribution of function8.1.6.2 Continued mobility8.1.6.3 Cautionary tales and alternatives

395395398401

8.1.7 Conclusion

404

8.2 Discussion: making a short story long again?

407

8.2.1 Cutting a long story short: premises

407

8.2.2 An approach of alternatives

409

8.2.3 What about the uplands?

411

8.2.4 Neolithisation: a long transition again?

412

8.3 Unsettled issues, continued practices

413

8.3.1 Land owns people

413

8.3.2 Subsistence and settlement systems

414

8.3.3 Neolithisation: no need for novelties?

414

Notes

417

9 Synthesis

419

9.1 Introduction

419

9.2 Assessing the evidence

420

9.3 The Late Mesolithic: a diverse background

420

9.3.1 Sites in the landscape

421

9.3.2 Evidence from assemblages

422

9.3.3 Context for occupation

423

9.3.4 Settlement systems and Neolithisation

423

9.3.5 The Mesolithic roots of Neolithisation

424

9.4 Neolithisation in the wetlands: a long-term community perspective

425

9.4.1 Wetland environment and dynamics

426

9.4.2 Wetland communities: land-use and livelihood

426

9.4.3. Integrative strategies

429

9.4.4 A new perspective on settlement systems

431

9.5 Neolithisation: a long transition

433

9.5.1 Premises of a short transition

434

9.5.2 Perspective for a long transition

434

9.5.3 Neolithisation and new rhythms

435

9.5.4 European perspectives

436

9.6 Total phenomena: human-environment relationships in the wetlands

437

9.6.1 Community-land relationships

437

9.6.2 Wetland and wetland margin inhabitation

438

9.7 Future prospects

441

Notes

442

10 Epilogue: Afterthoughts on Neolithisation: Zvelebils model

reconsidered

443

10.1 Introduction

443

10.2 Revisiting the availability model: indigenous perspectives

443

10.3 Attitude: the context of a giving environment

444

10.3.1 The giving environment

444

10.3.2 Resilient modes of thought

445

10.4 Interaction: a context of networks

447

10.4.1 Networks

447

10.4.2 Network dynamics

448

10.5 Integration

448

10.6 Application and future use

451

Notes

452

References

455

Dutch Summary - Samenvatting

521

Acknowledgements

541

Curriculum Vitae

545

Chapter 1

From Hardinxveld to Noordhoorn and

beyond

1.1 IntroductionOn the morning of November 7th 1997 the skeletal remains of an elderly womanwere found at the waterlogged site of Hardinxveld-Giessendam Polderweg. Theremains were dated to the Late Mesolithic (5738-5588 cal BC), making her theoldest known inhumation burial in the Netherlands at the time. The woman,affectionately named Trijntje, was buried on her back and had no burial giftsexcept for a few specks of ochre. At some distance from the elderly woman was asecond, severely disturbed interment of an adult person and three dog burials, twoof which were disturbed, as well as some 80 isolated finds of human bone. Theevidence provided by the skeletal material indicated the former presence of men,women and children (Louwe Kooijmans 2001a; Smits/Louwe Kooijmans 2001).The woman was likely a member of a small community inhabiting a LateGlacial dune or donk. The donk must have been a focal point, a dry homefor this community in a vast wetland consisting of lakes, watercourses andswamps. The faunal material at the site provides evidence of an extensive rangeof (subsistence) activities such as hunting, fishing, fowling and trapping, whilebotanical remains attested to gathering. This picture was complemented not onlythrough lithic evidence, but especially through the recovery of artefacts of bone,antler and wood like axes, adzes, awls, chisels, sleeves, bows, paddle blades, and,at the nearby twin site of De Bruin, a fish-weir and a complete dug-out canoe.The unparalleled artefactual, faunal and botanical evidence as well as the formalburials and the considerable number of features, including the remains of sunkendwellings, argue for an interpretation of the site as a winter base camp for a groupof hunter-gatherers. The artefacts also showed that the community was not anisolated band in a temperate wilderness, but was part of a larger community, withmaterial contacts stretching to South-Limburg and the Ardennes and maintainingrelations, either directly or indirectly, with the first farmers of the Bandkeramikculture (Louwe Kooijmans 2003).Both Polderweg and nearby De Bruin yielded a wealth of informationconcerning these sites use, the spectrum of activities carried out there and theirwider social and cultural networks, thanks to the unique preservation conditionsand the rich artefactual, structural and ecological remains. This enabledresearchers in the Lower Rhine Area (LRA) to transcend for the first time therather restricted record of this period predominantly made up of numerous flintscatters (see Deeben/Van Gijn 2005; Louwe Kooijmans 1993b; 2001a; Verhart2000), and gain greater insight into the variety of Late Mesolithic life, allowing usto appreciate its distinct identity more fully. In a way, one could say these sites are

from hardinxveld to noordhoorn and beyond

17

the regions answer to such renowned sites as Starr Carr (Clark 1954) and Friesack4 (Gramsch/Kloss 1989), as well as the rich Danish Mesolithic as a whole, whichhas been regularly held up as a role model for this region (Louwe Kooijmans 1999;2001a; Verhart 2000).From Hardinxveld to NoordhoornOf equal importance to the perspective both Hardinxveld sites offer regardingthe Mesolithic communities in the LRA is their position in the process ofNeolithisation. At Polderweg the intriguing discovery was made of an LBK-typearrowhead dating from phase 1, synchronous with, or predating, the earliestLBK occupation in southern Limburg and indicative of contacts with these earlyfarming communities. Several centuries later, around 5000 cal BC, the first locallymade pottery appears at the site, marking the start of the Swifterbant culture.Finally, the locality of De Bruin yielded the first evidence of animal husbandry bythese communities, in the form of a limited number of bones of domestic animals cattle, pig, sheep and goat that were brought to the site (Louwe Kooijmans2007a, 296-297). These discoveries form important material and economicmarkers in the process of Neolithisation that allow the documentation of theearly phase of the transition to agriculture in this area. Another such discoverywas made nearby.Almost six years later and 50 km to the west another skeleton was discovered,this time of an adult man. He was lying in a contracted position. In his righthand he held a grave gift: a piece of pyrite and three strike-a-lights. The gravewas discovered during the excavation of the Middle Neolithic wetland site ofSchipluiden-Noordhoorn and was part of a small burial ground, consisting ofthree graves and four individuals. The site was located on a slight elevation formedby a low dune and must have been one of the higher places in the surroundingvast salt marsh landscape. Due to comparable favourable find circumstances as atHardinxveld, Schipluiden also yielded a lot of information about its habitationdated to approximately 3700 cal BC, and attributed to the Neolithic Hazendonkgroup. Some 4600 features were uncovered at the site, including postholes ofnumerous residential structures, wells, pits, hearthpits and an enclosing fence.The people at Schipluiden, unlike their predecessors at Hardinxveld, herdedcattle on the surrounding salt marsh as attested by the faunal remains. Botanicalevidence also indicates the presence of locally grown cereals. The lithic materialyielded many axe fragments and illustrates the wide range of existing contactsneeded to acquire the variety of raw materials documented. Although hunting,fishing and gathering still constituted an important share of daily practice, as isattested by various artefacts such as bows and paddles as well as faunal remainsand stable isotope analysis (Louwe Kooijmans 2006a; Smits/Van der Plicht 2009;Smits et al. 2010), these new practices formed distinct additions to the spectrum ofactivities. Because of the vast quantities of material unearthed at Schipluiden, it isa key site for understanding the development of the Neolithic in this region, as theevidence in its entirety indicates not only a distinct agricultural component, butalso that the site was occupied permanently. Both agriculture and sedentism areperceived as important and oft-associated characteristics of Neolithic communities(e.g. Bogucki 1999; Rowley-Conwy 2004).

18

persistent traditions

A paradox of change?The introduction of these sites illustrates a development and accentuates a seemingcontrast between both time frames and the communities involved, regardingthe transition from hunter-gatherer societies to farmers in LRA.1 In this respectthe sites of Hardinxveld-Giessendam and Schipluiden-Noordhoorn belong toapparently very different stages in this process. The community at Hardinxveldformed a small band that seasonally inhabited a dune in a vast wetland area. Thesepeople were the heirs of communities that had been characterized by mobilityand a hunter-gatherer mode of subsistence for millennia, eventually dating backto the reindeer hunters of the Magdalenian and Hamburgian age (Clark 1977;Deeben/Arts 2005; Gamble 1986a,b; Louwe Kooijmans 1993a). The membersof the Schipluiden community, on the other hand, appear to have been part ofsomething new; they tended herds of cattle, grew domesticated plants and theirhome was permanent and distinctly marked by a surrounding fence. This pointsto new cultural facets such as production, ownership, territory and the shapingof the land, that can be considered alien to temperate post-glacial Europe. Theyultimately largely derive from the by then roughly 6000-year-old Near-Easterndevelopment of agriculture (Bogucki 1988, Louwe Kooijmans 1993b; 1998b;Thorpe 1996; Whittle 1999).2However, as much as they belong to very different periods in time, bothHardinxveld and Noordhoorn are also essentially part of one and the same: acultural succession of related indigenous communities caught up in a regionalprocess of Neolithisation. As such the Hardinxveld band, as well as formingthe last embers of a hunter-gatherer way of life, also stood on the threshold ofsomething new, while Schipluiden-Noordhoorn in many ways forms a testimonyto the way these new elements became incorporated.

1.2 Research aims: point of departure

The two key sites introduced above serve to indicate the position of this studyin the wider debate on the Mesolithic and Neolithic and illustrate its mainobjective:To better understand the process of Neolithisation in the Lower Rhine Areathrough a specification of the long-term socio-ideological characteristics of theindigenous communities involved.The emphasis is on the continuity of the traditions of originally huntergatherer communities in the trajectory of introduction and incorporation ofNeolithic elements. It stresses the notion that the study of their relations withthe very special and dynamic landscape they lived in may result in an increasedunderstanding of their role in the period and process investigated. The position ofthis study in the debate on Neolithisation is, as such, in essence a native view onthe offer of the new farming communities.At the same time the importance of the developments taking place cannot bestudied in isolation from the larger issue of the transition to agriculture, whichultimately classifies as one of the important steps in the history of mankind (seeChapter 2). For the studied area and period the most influential models of thepast decades has been the in essence descriptive availability model originallydeveloped by Zvelebil and Rowley-Conwy (1984; also see Zvelebil 1986a; 1998a).

from hardinxveld to noordhoorn and beyond

19

While the heuristic aspects of this model will be discussed in detail in Chapter 3,it serves as a point of departure here.The availability model subdivides the transition to agriculture into threestages, termed availability, substitution and consolidation based on the relativecontribution of domesticates and cultigens to the diet. This means that theeconomic shift from hunting and gathering to food production takes centre stagein the discussion on the transition to agriculture and is seen as the prime markerfor the process of Neolithisation (see Zvelebil/Lillie 2000). However, a Neolithicway of life in essence comprises much more than an economic development. Itpotentially includes fundamental social changes and an altogether different worldview.Without denying the importance of this economic aspect, this study aims todemonstrate that an increased understanding of the process of Neolithisation in theLRA may ultimately derive from altogether different aspects of the communitiesinvolved, in particular those of a socio-ideological nature. These provide anadditional, perspective to current models on the transition to agriculture in theLRA.This study embraces archaeological as well as anthropological and theoreticalapproaches to underline the importance of non-economic aspects and todemonstrate the importance of the socio-ideological identity and associatedpractices of the communities involved in shaping the process of Neolithisation inthis area. At the end of this thesis a number of general notions resulting from thisapproach will be presented in a reconsideration of the availability model.Research context and perspectiveThe scope of this research covers the successive communities caught up in theindigenous process of Neolithisation in the Lower Rhine Area. Chronologicallythis involves the cultural succession of Late Mesolithic, Swifterbant culture,Hazendonk group and Vlaardingen culture between c. 5500 and 2500 cal BC.Geographically this roughly concerns the wetlands and wetland margin areasbetween the rivers Scheldt and Elbe.The process of Neolithisation in this area can be characterized as a long-termand gradual incorporation of material elements, domesticates and cultigens, andat last the adoption of sedentism (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 1998a; 2007a). Althoughinterpretations regarding the time span of this transition differ (see Raemaekers2003), its gradual nature remains undisputed and contrasts with contemporaneousdevelopments in Scandinavia and Great Britain (see Hartz et al. 2007; Larsson2007c; Rowley-Conwy 2004; see also Srensen/Karg 2012). It also implies adifferent involvement of the indigenous communities living in the LRA (e.g.Raemaekers 1999, 191).The general outline of the trajectory of Neolithisation in the LRA has, overthe past two decades, developed into a robust framework, both through regularsynthetic overviews and empirically based interpretations, as well as through thepublication of new highly informative sites (e.g. Ten Anscher 2012; Koot et al.2008; Louwe Kooijmans 1993a,b; 1998a,b; 2003; 2006a; 2007a; Out 2009; ; Peeters2007; Raemaekers 1999; 2003; De Roever 2004; Vanmontfort 2007; Verhart2000; 2012; also see below). At the same time much is still unknown regardingthe introduction and adoption of these new Neolithic elements. This involvesquestions such as the actual economic contribution of domesticates and cultigens,

20

persistent traditions

the role of the communities on the coversand landscapes in between the wetlandsand the (earlier) loess-based LBK occupation, and our limited information onsome time trajectories, such as those between Hardinxveld and Swifterbant (47004400 cal BC) and before the Hazendonk group (4000-3700 cal BC; see alsoVanmontfort 2007).Despite these challenges, the goal of this thesis is not primarily to expand ourdocumentation of these or similar characteristics of the transition to agriculture- at least not directly. Instead the aim of this study is to resolve our understandingof Neolithisation through a study of its regional repercussions. In other wordsthe focus is on the indigenous communities involved, rather than the transitiontaking place and following from that; the emphasis is on persistency of tradition,rather than change and development; on people, rather than process.An additional aspect of this study is that it is a literature-based synthesis, offeringa limited potential for adding new data, but favouring compiling and reviewing.Primarily and essentially, however, it is a matter of perspective. It is precisely thefocus on the characteristics, identity and role of the indigenous communities bywhich this study hopes to offer an alternative perspective to approaches focussingon trajectories of change and to contribute to a more balanced understanding ofNeolithisation in this area.Research questionsIn adopting this approach a number of central research themes can be formulated.The main question focuses on the indigenous communities involved in the transitionto agriculture in the study area. It concerns seeking a better understanding ofhow the characteristics of the successive groups between the Late Mesolithic andVlaardingen culture may be defined over time and in relation to their landscapeand environmental context. The research will then examine how the formulationof long-term common values, or in effect group identity or mentalit, may helpdefine the role and position of these communities in the process of Neolithisationand, as such, their influence on the dimensions of the transition to agriculture inthis area. In relation to this three related central themes were defined.

Mesolithic roots. The first theme deals with the Mesolithic roots of thecommunities involved. This is meant both in a chronological and a relationalsense. The Late Mesolithic period comprises the communities preceding andexperiencing the initial interaction with farming communities. Their diversityacross the LRA meant an equally diverse substrate for the Neolithisationprocess. The relational aspect focuses on the persistence of values and associatedbehaviour derived from the hunter-gatherer roots of these communities andthe extent to which they influence the various processes of acculturationtaking place (see Barnard 2007).

Landscape and environment. The second theme examines the recursive

interaction between communities and their (physical) environment. Thisincludes both the landscape as substrate and its associated environmentaldynamics as well as, in this case in particular, the relationship between theLate Mesolithic to Vlaardingen culture groups, present in the wetland andwetland margin landscape to these. From an interpretative perspective, this

from hardinxveld to noordhoorn and beyond

21

not only involves aspects of a measurable physical-ecological relationship, but

essentially constitutes an attempt to define landscape perception (cf. Ingold2000). It is therefore also a phenomenological approach.

Neolithic axioms. The third theme questions and reinterprets the position ofNeolithic markers and the contribution and role of material and economicaspects of the transition to agriculture in relation to the data available in thestudy area. This involves the extent to which current models of Neolithisationare supported by the archaeological record, how the incorporation of newNeolithic elements may be understood from an emic perspective and to whatextent processes of change and incorporation of aspects of an agriculturalexistence altered the characteristics of the studied communities. This,importantly, is a theoretical discussion regarding stresses and emphases placedin discussing the broad topic of Neolithisation.

The three themes are not treated separately but recur repeatedly throughout thisthesis. The underlying thrust of this study (see also Chapter 6), emphasises therelational qualities of community behaviour (and perception) and environmentover time and in relation to both issues of identity and Neolithisation.

1.3 Research area and dataset

The study operates on two geographical levels. It deals with the process ofNeolithisation in the Lower Rhine Area. This area may be defined as the westernpart of the North European plain bordered by the Belgian and German mountainranges of the Ardennes and the Eifel respectively, and by the North Sea (seeChapter 3). It encompasses the loess soils in the southern part of the Netherlandsand adjacent territory, characterized by the occupation of Neolithic Bandkeramik(LBK) farmers from 5300 cal BC, the coversand areas north of that and thewetland areas north and west of these. The emphasis in this study is on this latterpart, in particular the wetland and wetland margin areas of the Western andCentral Netherlands (the coastal, intracoastal and fluviatile region) which forma rough triangle with its apex in the eastern riverine area. Chronologically thestudy centres on the period between 6000 and 2500 cal BC, including the LateMesolithic up to and including the Late Neolithic A period (cf. Van den Broekeet al. 2005).3 The emphasis within the scope of this work, however, distinctly lieson the Late Mesolithic, Swifterbant culture, Hazendonk group and Vlaardingenculture communities. The contextualisation and implications of this must takeshape within the wider framework of developments taking place during thetransition to agriculture in the LRA and northwestern Europe in general.Site-based perspectiveA dataset has been created (Appendix I) with site descriptions with respect to thetime frame and studied area. It comprises some 58 sites with relevant information,as well as 93 sites that provide some additional information. These sites formthe backbone of the analysed data. As such, this study does not primarily take alandscape approach in the classical sense of a regional occupation history establishedthrough the reconstruction of detailed settlement systems, including sites and offsite phenomena (see Darvill 1997; Donahue 2006; Topping 1997). The available

22

persistent traditions

informative sites simply do not allow such a reconstruction in most areas. Insteadthe research perspective is primarily that of a comparative study of the long-termcharacteristics of sites in relation to the dynamics of landscape and environment,with the purpose of increasing our understanding of the characteristics of thecommunities involved. As such, an important part of this study aims to yielda perspective on the integrated and recursive relationship between communitiesand their surroundings. Such a people-place-perception perspective ties in withthe theoretical relational approach of an archaeology of inhabitation mentionedabove (also see Brck/Goodman 1999a,b; Casey 1996; Geertz 1996; Pollard 1999;Thomas 2000; 2001). This scope also entails that the range of archaeologicalproxies is wide, including material, economic and behavioural information.The study is largely based on an analysis of the available literature. Thisself-evidently gives rise to shortcomings that mainly relate to the quality of theavailable publications and the associated excavations and importantly, differentsystems of recording. In particular old research based on different standards,many preliminary publications and the standardised reports generated by recentcommercial archaeology quantitatively form one end of the spectrum, while alimited number of other, site-based publications, also mostly deriving from CRMarchaeology, form the opposite, highly qualitative, end. In spite of the difficultiesin a comparative analysis, all evidence is needed for an understanding of thestudied communities.

1.4 Structure and methodology: a road map

This research covers a long time period and a large area. A number of archaeologicalas well as theoretical elements contribute to the main research aim as discussedabove and structure the argument along the way. Four different parts may bedistinguished. In order to elucidate their role and position in this text a brief roadmap is provided.Part I: context and backgroundThe first part situates this study in the context of the recent debate on the transitionto agriculture and introduces the strengths and weaknesses of the Lower RhineArea dataset for the period studied.

Chapter 2 starts with an historical perspective of the wider Neolithisation

debate and the position of this study.

This is followed in Chapter 3 by a more detailed introduction regarding

Neolithisation in the Lower Rhine Area, a qualification of several interpretativebiases and a definition of the theoretical and analytical scope of this study

Chapter 4 deals with the quantitative and qualitative aspects of the dataset inrelation to geographical, taphonomic and methodological factors, includinga reflection on the values of the qualitatively highly informative wetlanddataset.

Part II: the Late Mesolithic prelude

The second part provides a context for the process of Neolithisation in the LRAand the role of the indigenous communities.

from hardinxveld to noordhoorn and beyond

23

Chapter 5 is directed at detecting differences and similarities in the occupation

practices of the communities of the hunter-gatherer substrate, as the basisof hypotheses on their influences on the process of Neolithisation. For thispurpose a varied set of topics, including settlement location choice and sitestructure as well as technological, typological and raw material characteristicsof the lithic assemblages is examined in a comparative study of excavated LateMesolithic sites from different geographical contexts.

Part III: the Neolithisation of the wetland communities

The third part focuses on the special case of the transformation of the indigenouswetland communities during the process of Neolithisation.

As a first step Chapter 6 provides a theoretical basis for the relationship of

these communities with and their perception of the environment.

This phenomenological perspective is applied in Chapter 7 to the archaeological

evidence. The focus is on the long-term characteristics of occupation andthe choices made by the communities involved in relation to Neolithisation.This allows a reinterpretation of the way in which communities negotiatedNeolithisation, an agricultural existence included.

On that basis Chapter 8 at last offers a new view on the developments of thesettlement system over time and a further specification of the very extendedand gradual nature of the Neolithisation process among these communitieswith their - as is argued specific wetland identity and mentalit.

Part IV: synthesis and concluding thoughts

The different elements studied in this thesis are combined in the final part.

A synthesis is presented in Chapter 9. It recapitulates the main ideas presented

and draws out aspects of long-term continuity in the community-environmentrelationship in light of the process of Neolithisation.

Chapter 10 forms an epilogue and advances a reconsideration of the availability

model from the perspective advocated in this study.

1.5 BackgroundThis study is part of the research project The Malta Harvest: From Hardinxveld toNoordhoorn- from forager to farmer. The project was funded by the NetherlandsOrganisation for Scientific Research (NWO) and situated at the Faculty ofArchaeology, Leiden University. While this study focuses on the questions andimplications of from forager to farmer, it importantly draws on from Hardinxveldto Noordhoorn and the wider set of sites attributed to the Malta harvest. Thisfinds its origins in the Malta Convention (1992), aimed at protecting Europeanarchaeological heritage and regulating excavation and research.4 The preliminaryimplementation of the treaty in the Netherlands and its ratification (2011)eventuated in a partially commercial heritage and excavation framework and ledto an increase in commercially tendered projects, both of small to moderate scaleas well as a small number of high-quality, large-scale infrastructural projects.5 As

24

persistent traditions

a result of this growing corpus of Malta sites, new data regarding the process ofNeolithisation has come to light in a relatively brief period. The aim of this projectis to synthesize these new results in relation to data yielded by sites excavatedearlier and provide a new context for studying the period of the transition toagriculture in the Lower Rhine Area.

Notes1

The terms hunter-gatherer and forager will be used indiscriminately in this study. However, theterm forager probably does more justice to the societies in question because it is a more economicexpression and does not suggest a prevailing importance of hunting (Lee 1968, 44). For a discussionon this subject, see e.g. Shott 1992, 864, note 1.Most scholars agree that domesticates, crops as well as animals, must have been introduced to thesecommunities by the successors of the Linear Bandkeramik Culture that arrived in the Lower RhineBasin around 5350 BC and effectively established the first or primary Neolithic in the region(Bogucki 1988; 2000; Louwe Kooijmans 2001a; Van de Velde/Bakels 2002) The primacy of theLinear Bandkeramik Culture, i.e. being the first Neolithic culture in the region, is the topic of muchdebate. The role of the rather elusive La Hoguette and Limburg pottery is especially important inthis respect. La Hoguette pottery might even predate the Bandkeramik occupation in the LowerRhine Basin since it is not often found in association with it (Brounen/De Jong 1988; Van Berg1990; Constantin 2002; Jeunesse 2001; Louwe Kooijmans 1993a; Modderman 1987; Raemaekers1999, however, also see Brounen/Vromen 1990 and Brounen/Hauzeur 2010 ). Nevertheless theimpact of the LBK arrival and the impetus it gave to setting in motion the process of Neolithisationcan hardly be underestimated.This involves the Late Mesolithic communities as well as contemporary and subsequent Neolithiccultures and groups. It includes both the LBK and its successors on the loess and coversands and theindigenous development of the Late Mesolithic in the wetland and wetland margin area north andwest of these.At the Malta Convention (1992) several European nations, including the Netherlands, signed thetreaty of Valetta. This treaty regulates European archaeological heritage management and is basedon the concept of in-situ preservation. If this is not possible the disturbing party in principle has topay for excavation. Another spearhead of the treaty is to make archaeology a priority within townand country planning. The Dutch law-bill for implementing Malta was approved by the house ofparliament in 2006) and was ratified in 2011.Examples of large-scale projects are the Betuweroute and HSL-projects (railroad connections), theMaaswerken (flood-control and environment), several highways (for example the A27) as well asnumerous smaller projects. For the period under consideration here several medium to large-scaleexcavations have taken place, such as A27-Hoge Vaart (Hogestijn/Peeters, 2001), HardinxveldGiessendam-Polderweg and De Bruin (Louwe Kooijmans 2001a,b), Wateringen IV (Raemaekers et al.1997), Ypenburg (Koot et al. 2008), Urk-E4 (Peters/Peeters 2001) and Schipluiden-Harnaschpolder(Louwe Kooijmans 2006a). While the quantitative addition of new discoveries is tantalizing thereare at least two fundamental qualitative aspects that should be mentioned. First of all Maltainspired contractual archaeology mostly funds excavation and documentation of sites yet rarelyany subsequent research. This means excavated sites end up in so-called standard-reports mainlyfocusing on the documentary aspects of the excavation itself. In addition, these reports are oftenof variable quality, not in the least since their initial conception was not born out of researchquestions. Secondly, in times when the market finds itself economically distressed, as it is presently,competition between the different commercial parties may lead to pricing in the tendering projectthat seriously undermines the quality of the work and consequently the safeguarding of our culturalheritage. As of yet the governmental and regulatory aspects of the commercial system lack the meansto properly act upon this.

from hardinxveld to noordhoorn and beyond

25

Chapter 2

Thoughts in transition A European

perspectivethat revolution whereby man ceased to be purely parasitic and, with theadoption of agriculture and stock-raising, became a creator emancipated from thewhims of his environment (Childe 1952 (1935), 1-2).

2.1 IntroductionAs somewhat dramatically stated by V.G. Childe above, the transition to farmingis regarded by most prehistorians as one of the pivotal events in the history anddevelopment of humanity worldwide (e.g. Binford 2002 (1983); Bar-Yosef 2004;Childe 1976 (1957); Hayden 1995; Louwe Kooijmans 1998a; Price 2000a; Whittle/Cummings 2007). This almost unanimous concordance, however, contrastsstrikingly with the multitude of opinions voiced concerning the processes thatgovern this transition, its spread and its implications. Although much of thedebate has focused on the actual centres of domestication, there now also exists avast body of literature on the transition to agriculture and the spread of farmingex situ. Europe generally is not regarded as an original centre of domestication,as most of the wild predecessors characterising the European Neolithic originatedin the Near East. There is both ample evidence and chronological control as wellas a constellation of circumstances (Uerpmann 1996, 232) pointing to an earlylocal development (e.g. Ammerman 2003; Bar-Yosef/Belfer-Cohen 1989; 1992;Garrard et al. 1996; Thomas 1996a; Watson 1995).1,2 Independent domesticationin Europe can be largely ruled out and that leaves us with two main optionsfor explaining the spread of agriculture: migration or local adoption. This studyaims to contribute to an understanding of the transition to agriculture in theLower Rhine Area (LRA), but should do so within the interpretative context ofthe process of Neolithisation on a European scale. Therefore, this chapter presentsthe main theoretical aspects and developments of this debate in order to create aEuropean context for discussion. The following chapter will subsequently narrowthe scope to the LRA.

2.2 The mechanics of spread

The academic debate concerning whether the dispersal of agriculture over Europewas mainly brought about by the migration of colonist-farmers originating fromthe Near East or through the adoption of (elements of ) a Neolithic package byan indigenous Mesolithic population is far from settled, yet there seems to beconsensus concerning some aspects.3 It is evident that both processes occurred

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27

and operating simultaneously more often than separately (e.g. Price 2000c; LouweKooijmans 1998b). The relevance or dominance of either mode within a certainregion, however, remains subject to debate.Mediterranean perspectivesThere are a few strong cases for colonization in Southern and SoutheasternEurope such as the Aegean islands (Price 2000c) and Thessaly (Halstead 1996),which boast substantial evidence such as archaeobotanical (Colledge et al. 2004)and craniometric data (Pinhasi/Pluciennik 2004). Yet even there the situation isfar more complex than previously assumed. A good example is Franchti cave inGreece, one of the few positively identified Mesolithic sites, where the transitionto agriculture around 7000 BC was very rapid, while at the same time yieldingconvincing evidence for indigenous adoption (Halstead 1996, 299-300; Thorpe1996, 23). Later in time and further west, another example is formed by the Cardialor Impressed Ware culture indicative of the westward spread of the Neolithicalong the various coasts of the Mediterranean. Long deemed a classical exampleof colonization (Childe 1958, 47-49; cf. Price 2000a), there has been increasingevidence over the years that the picture is much more complex (e.g. Rowley-Conwy1995, 346-347). Some of the evidence points to colonist bridgeheads, sedentismand farmer enclaves in Italy, Southern France and the Iberian peninsula (e.g. Barker1985, 71; Binder 2000, 117; Harris 1996, 560; Zilho 2000, 171). On the otherhand there is evidence for internal adoption, or acculturation, as was proposed byLewthwaite (1986) and Donahue (1992) (e.g. Geddes 1985). Whittle (1999, 291)even speaks of the sea-borne transmission of contacts, ideas and resources as theprimary means of change. This is backed up by sites bearing evidence of a gradualchange, such as the 7th millennium BC Grotta dell Uzzo in Sicily or the Audevalley sites in Southern France.4 There seem to be ample indications that bothprocesses were operating in the region, perhaps even contemporaneously. Mostscholars agree however that the untangling of these processes is severely hamperedby differential preservation of sites. The submersion of presumed coastal sites withindications for contact and change, for example, places too much emphasis on theevidence from caves and rockshelters, spectacular dates often lack a good context,the allocation of finds and features to certain periods is questionable and thereis limited knowledge on the Mesolithic occupation (Barnett 2000; Binder 2000;Lewthwaite 1986; Price 2000a; Tarrus et al. 1994; Whittle 1999; Zilho 2000).Tringham (2000a, 33) notes that the awareness of these kinds of problems andthe general ambiguity of the data, have led to a reduction in speed, distance ofmovement and scale in modeling colonization, emphasizing social pressures andthe social complexity of fissioning settlements.Into Central EuropeThis reduction also affects one of the other strongholds of colonization, the LBKculture. The apparent homogeneity in material culture and settlement system ofthe LBK combined with a rapid spread over vast expanses of land still convincesmany scholars of its migratory nature. Yet most agree that it was not as unilinearand evident as previously thought (e.g. Gronenborn 1998; Kind 1998; LouweKooijmans 1998b; Lning (ed.) 1972; Modderman 1988; Price et al. 1995;Zvelebil 2004a). The origins of the LBK-culture lie in the northwestern part ofthe Hungarian plain, where there are strong affiliations with the Starevo-Krs

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persistent traditions

complex (Bogucki/Grygiel 1993). It is, however, very unlikely that population

growth of the pioneering groups and an open settlement system alone couldhave been responsible for the subsequent swift spread of the lteste LBK up toNiedersachsen and Hessen (Louwe Kooijmans 1998b; Whittle 1999).5 Thesedoubts are confirmed by the heterogeneous appearance of assemblages andexchange patterns, implying intensive Mesolithic contact and already existentnetworks (Gronenborn 1994, 146; 1998; 1999; 2003a; Zvelebil 2004a) or,according to Tillman (1993), even possible Late Mesolithic origins. Mesolithicinfluence further north is suggested by the appearance of LBK-like arrowheadsin Late Mesolithic assemblages (see Gronenborn 1998; Huyge/ Vermeersch 1982;Louwe Kooijmans 1998b)6 and the conspicuous lateralisation of both trapezesand LBK points as demonstrated by Lhr (1994; also see Gehlen 2006; Robinson2008; 2010). Increasing regionalisation, visible for example in pottery decoration,(e.g. Modderman 1988) could also be ascribed to increasing indigenous influence.Metrical (Modderman 1988) and strontium-isotope analysis (Bentley 2007;Price et al. 2001; 2006) of Bandkeramik skeletal material indicate both strongregional differences and a very plausible Mesolithic influx within LBK-society.The occurrence of Limburg pottery and La Hoguette and Begleitkeramik-ware addto the existing complexity and the academic debate concerning both phenomenaand their relationship to the LBK remains far from settled (e.g. Van Berg 1990;Brounen/Hauzeur 2010; Constantin 2002; Gronenborn 1994; Jeunesse 2001;Lning et al. 1989; Manen/Mazuri de Keroualin 2003; Modderman 1981).One might, however, conclude that they at least represent, in either pure oracculturated form, the material legacy of a Late Mesolithic or, in the case of LaHoguette, early Neolithic substratum (Gronenborn 2004, 15; Jeunesse 2003,102).7 Their appearance at LBK sites at least indicates contact and interactiongoing on. The various strands of evidence taken together convincingly attest toa difficult to determine, yet distinct role for the Late Mesolithic population inthe spread and settlement of LBK communities (also see Vanmontfort 2008a). Inthis light it is understandable that Whittle (1999) opts for an indigenous originand mobile settlement system for the entire Bandkeramik, effectively revivingthe debate on Wandernbauerntum (see for instance Childe 1958; Soudsky 1962;Modderman 1970; Bakels 1982). Yet although the evidence for (partial) indigenousacculturation is substantial, the indications arguing in favour of colonization areat least equally convincing; the absence of a fully Neolithic substrate with localdomesticates, the differences in stone tools, pottery and house forms, as well asthe rapidity and simultaneity of the numerous changes (Bogucki/Grygiel 1993;Jochim 2000), cannot but signal the significant intrusive character of the LBK,especially from the ltere LBK onwards (e.g. Gronenborn 1999).On the North European PlainFurther north the Neolithic dispersal came to a more or less complete stop alongthe southern margin of the North European Plain (Bogucki 1999, 179). Northof this imaginary frontier there is tangible evidence of a rather substantial LateMesolithic population that held off agriculture for a considerable timespan. Theyonly gradually incorporated various Neolithic elements, while to a great extentholding on to a foraging way of life, effectively turning into hybrid communities(e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 1987; Price 2000b,c; Price/Gebauer 1992; Raemaekers1999; Zvelebil/Rowley-Conwy 1984). Theoretically, peaceful coexistence, hostility

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29

or avoidance are the possible options in these contact situations (e.g. Golitko/Keeley 2007; Jochim 2000; Price et al. 1995; Keeley 1992) and often there is adifference between the initial contact (first stage) and subsequent (second stage)relations (Verhart 2000). Although these stages in contact situations are hard todetect archaeologically, the North European Plain (including the LRA), and tosome extent Scandinavia and the British Isles, remain an ideal stage to study theprocess of Neolithisation and the different frontier-situations (see Dennell 1985;Zvelebil 1996; 2000; 2001). This is both because of the long time-span involved,due to the static frontier, and the availability of high-quality (often wetland) sites(see Chapters 3 and 4).8 As such the emphasis is much less on whether colonizationor adoption was the dominant process involved, but more on the character andtemporalities of the incorporation of Neolithic elements. This does not mean thatcolonization or demic diffusion should be entirely absent from the debate (contraWhittle 1999). People did not always stay in one place and the simultaneousoccurrence of various Neolithic and transitional societies leaves room for intrusiveor demic arguments, be it on a somewhat smaller scale.9The transition to agriculture in Europe was differentiated according to regionand time frame (cf. Tringham 2000a). This realization and the fact that even thecases of colonization previously deemed clear-cut are hardly uncontested, has putan end to the polarization of the debate on the mechanics behind dispersal and thesearch for a monolithic process (see Gkiasta et al. 2003). The presence of a LateMesolithic hunter-gatherer population indicates that there will always have beenan interplay between external and indigenous processes. Unfortunately the unevendistribution and archaeological invisibility of this indigenous population is amajor deficit in our current knowledge. Both colonization and internal adoptionretain value as conceptual frameworks but future research must look for argumentsto better distinguish between the movement of people, objects and ideas.10

2.3 In search of causality

The discussion above mainly deals with questions of where, how and whenagriculture spread. The answer to the question why it spread, the search for causality,remains elusive. The past century has seen different important paradigmaticapproaches to the problem accentuating the debate and shaping our knowledge.In order to understand the current situation, its deficiencies and the perspectiveof this study, a brief historic outline will be sketched.Early modelsThe earliest explanations for the transition to agriculture were evolutionistic.Agriculture was a self-evident superior lifestyle that would be unhesitatingly pickedup by hunter-gatherers confronted with it. This notion sprang from Darwins ideason the matter (1875) advocating knowledge as the crucial factor. Ecologicallyfavourable circumstances in combination with knowledge, or culturally readycommunities (Thorpe 1996; Zvelebil 1986a), would inevitably lead to agriculture.Several models adopting this point of view were established for the Near East(e.g. Pumpelly 1908; Childe 1928; Braidwood 1960; Watson 1995). Farmingpopulations would subsequently colonize new territories, assimilating or drivingaway the hunter-gatherers present. These ideas neatly echoed the existing culturehistorical views on prehistory in Europe (see for example Childe 1958; Clark

30

persistent traditions

1936), corroborating the supposed evolutionary gap between the Mesolithic andthe Neolithic and making the latter a logical choice (Childe 1928; Daniel 1975;Dennell 1985; Pluciennik 1998). The spread of the LBK across Europe must haveseemed illustrative in this respect.Man the Hunter and New ArchaeologyAnthropological opinion changed in the 1960s (Bender/Morris 1991; David/Kramer 2001; Shott 1992), with archaeology following suit. Fundamental inthis regard was the publication of the Man the Hunter conference proceedings(Lee/DeVore 1968). Foraging was no longer envisaged as an inferior unattractivesubsistence strategy (see Dennell 1985). Hunter-gatherers had a good standard ofliving, expending remarkably little time and energy on subsistence compared tofarmers (e.g. Lee 1968, 43; Woodburn 1968, 52-55).11 Although hardly objectivein itself (Price 1991), this new view effectively changed the perspective of thesearch for causality. Superiority no longer sufficed as an explanation and othermotivations had to be found.12With the onset of the New Archaeology, archaeological thinking in generalchanged. The approach to archaeology became more scientific, processualmodels were used and these had to be tested against verifiable data. Clarke, inhis influential work Analytical Archaeology (1978 (1968)), presented humansociety or culture as a system with subsystems. These sociocultural subsystemswere themselves operating in an environmental system and striving to maintain acertain equilibrium in reaction to negative and positive feedback (1978 (1968),47-52). Since homeostasis is the crucial element of these systems (Madsen 1986,230), theories concerning the transition to agriculture now focused on univocalcauses, such as population growth, resource imbalance and climatic change(feedback), emphasizing stress, rather than deliberate choice, as a motivation forthe shift to farming (new equilibrium; e.g. Ammerman/Cavalli-Sforza 1971; BarYosef/Belfer-Cohen 1992; Binford 1968; Harris 1990; Rowley-Conwy 1984).13An archetypical example of these push and pull models (Bogucki 1999, 187-188;Harris 2003, 48) is Ammerman and Cavalli-Sforzas wave of advance model,based upon population biology (1971, 1973, 2003).14 They explained the spreadof agriculture, indicated by numerous 14C dates, as the result of demic diffusionthrough the combination of an increase in population combined with a modestmigratory activity. This would have set off a wave of advance spreading out at aconstant radial rate of 1 km per year from the Near East across Europe. In a laterarticle (1973) the spread was also linked to the genetic variation in Europeanpopulations.15 Another example is Binfords packing model (1968; 2002(1983))whereby population growth acts as a trigger, restricting hunter-gatherer mobilityand forcing them to focus on smaller animals and plants, eventually leading to ademand for an intensive production system. Climatic change and aquatic resourcesare important in the patterning of these processes (Binford 1999, 29-31).During the 1980s dissatisfaction with single-causal stress models grew, mainlybecause of the difficulties in correlating population growth and climate change, orstress, to cultural change (see Bogucki 1999; Price 2000c). Attention now focusedon the interplay of several factors in multi-causal models. At the same time theacademic pendulum swung away from external factors altogether (e.g. Halstead1996; Price 2000c; Thorpe 1996). Price, for example, (2000c, 310) argues that itseems that forces such as climate, environment and population growth were not

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primary causes of the transition to agriculture. Main arguments are that in manyareas of Mesolithic habitation food resources were abundant and productive,especially in coastal and riverine zones. This abundance was not significantlyreduced by environmental changes (because agriculture spread over long distancesdespite diverse environments within the short span of 3000 years) and thus couldnot form an incentive for the transition. Furthermore population numbers neverseem to have been substantial (Price 1987).Postprocessualism and indigenist perspectivesIn the light of postprocessualism, the search for causality focused inward, regardingthe processes, decisions and relations of hunter-gatherers as crucial in bringingabout the transition to agriculture as well as in understanding the process ofNeolithisation. The emphasis of the so-called internalist or indigenist approach (e.g.Ammerman 2003; Raemaekers 1999) is on the social and/or ideological structuresof past societies and the way these instigate, shape and enshrine the process ofNeolithisation (e.g. Edmonds 1999; Hodder 1990; Ingold 1996; Jennbert 1988,Price 2003; Thomas 1999; Tilley 1996).16 One of the first to propose a socialperspective was Bender (1978). According to her the commitment to agriculturewas brought about by changing social relations, therefore we should questionwhat brought about increased production and why these demands were madeon the economy (1978, 204-206). Bender (1978, 214) further points out thatsocial competition provides the major incentive for surplus production, ultimatelyleading to development in the productive forces and often involving technologicalchange. Hayden (1990; 1995) explicitly draws these ideas into the arena of BigMen and competitive feasting. He argues that the first domesticates exclusivelyappear in societies of resource abundant complex hunter-gatherers. Competitiveindividuals accumulating wealth could have stimulated the domestication ofplants and animals in order to enhance their quest for power. These social andsocio-competitive models have also been proposed in relation to the spread ofagriculture across Europe (e.g. Dennell 1985; Price/Gebauer 1992; Verhart 2000;Zvelebil 1998a,b). Raemaekers (1999, 14 and 188-190) states that these modelsapproach the transition to farming out of a state of social disequilibrium, wherecompetition acts as a trigger for the adoption of domesticates. Echoing Madsen(1986) and Tilley (1996) and their interpretation of the social structure of Ertebllecommunities, Raemaekers argues for a rather conservative subpopulation (of in thiscase Swifterbant-communities) preventing the full-scale adoption of agriculture.These opposing views of the competition models, requiring group consensus forsocietal change, are termed primitive communism (cf. Tilley 1996, 68-69).17Ideological approachesAnother postprocessual approach to the transition to agriculture is of an ideologicalnature, focusing on the symbolic and structural aspects of societies (e.g. Hodder1990;1998; Tilley 1996; Thomas 1999; Whittle 1999). In his The domesticationof Europe, Hodder (1990) clearly argues that the economic domestication of bothplants and animals was secondary to the social domestication of the communitiesinvolved. According to Hodder the impact of the transition to agriculture implieda restructuring of worldview or mentalit in order to be able to cope with theconsequences of Neolithisation. The taming of the wild (agrios), took place withinthe concept of the domus (meaning as much as home in its broadest sense), which

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provided a way of thinking about this control and about the greater oppositionsbetween culture and nature, social and unsocial.18 Through the domus the originsof agriculture were conceived of and symbolic control of the wild took place.This means that the domus was a conceptual and practical mechanism for socialas well as economic transformation (Hodder 1990, 28-43; also see Chapter 6).19Thomas (1997;1999) elaborates on the ideological approach by suggesting thatfor Atlantic Europe the actual economic transition was preceded by the adoptionof cultural traits and accompanying beliefs such as pottery and monumentalism,transforming society and creating new worlds of meaning (ibid., 14-17, 223,229). Whittle (1999) argues that the in his eyes mainly indigenous transitionfrom Mesolithic to Neolithic in Europe was less about technological-economicfactors, but much more about the ideas and values guiding and framing peoplesactivities within the world (Whittle 1999, 370-371).The postprocessual approach has emphasized the fact that there are moreaspects to the process of Neolithisation than a mere change in subsistence. Theprerogative of the walking stomach has therefore rightly made way for socialand ideological approaches emphasizing both the importance of the context ofour data as well as the importance of the agencies structuring it. In the currentpostmodernist era these theories now often prevail in interpreting archaeologicaldata, yet it is questionable whether they are as suited to enhancing our knowledgeand understanding of the transition to agriculture, as they are to enhancing ourscope on it. There is need for a more integrated approach incorporating data froma regional perspective.

2.4 Back to Basics?

In assessing several contributions to the debate on the transition to farmingMadsen stated: It is symptomatic for many of the newer contributions that theybase themselves to a wide extent on theoretical considerations, and make little or noreference to the archaeological recordIdeally a concern with the transition fromMesolithic to Neolithic, and an attempt to explain this transition, should base itself onboth the Late Mesolithic and the Early Neolithic record, and these should be carefullycompared in the light of what we know of the nature of the transition itself (1986,231). Apparently not much heed has been payed to Madsens statement, for inthe following two decades the archaeological debate surrounding the process ofNeolithisation in Northwestern Europe has, in the wake of the shifting AngloSaxon frontline of theory, succeeded in placing ever more emphasis on the socialand ideological aspects of the transition (cf. supra). This has led to a steady driftaway from archaeological data and as such, inevitably, from reality. RowleyConwys 2004 article How the West Was Lost is a critical appraisal of currentarchaeological discourse on the subject and a reconsideration of the agriculturalorigins of Britain, Ireland and Southern Scandinavia. Although geographicallylimited, Rowley-Conwys plea for a new understanding of Northwestern EuropesNeolithic has definite repercussions that also affect the continental parts of theregion, including the LRA. His main argument is built around the decoupling ofideology and subsistence that has taken place within postprocessual archaeology.Subsistence is no longer seen as fundamental in effecting change and, unlikematerial culture, is portrayed as only evolving at a slow pace. This subsequentlyled to the notion that the rapid change in material culture and the beginnings of

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monument building marking both the advent of the 4th millennium as well as theNeolithic in Britain and Scandinavia must have sprung from a change in ideology(see Thomas 1999, fig. 2.1).From this consensus three axioms have arisen (Rowley-Conwy 2004, 84). Thefirst supposes an intensifying Mesolithic predisposed to agriculture. The secondsuggests the existence of a foraging Neolithic after the change in ideology and thethird as a result envisages a supposedly slow economic transformation, implying arather seamless and gradual transition to agriculture. It is, however, demonstratedby Rowley-Conwy that there is no solid ethnographic or archaeological prooffor either an intensifying Mesolithic, or a Neolithic subsistence economy basedmainly on foraging (also see Rowley-Conwy 2001). The scarcity of domesticatedplants for example has led to their contextualisation as ritual instead of relating thisto biases in preservation. Houses have generally been missed during excavationsbecause they were not searched for due to unfamiliarity with the concept anddomestic faunal remains at settlements have been underemphasized comparedto assemblages from monuments.20,21 The origin of these thought-constructslies mainly in taphonomical and preservation biases influencing both researchtradition as well as theoretical development. This means that the supposedly slow,gradual and seamless transition to agriculture did not exist in Great Britain andScandinavia. The process of Neolithisation there was rather disruptive and suddeninvolving sedentism, domesticated grains, livestock and agricultural fields in smallclearings (Rowley-Conwy 2004, 93-96). A rapid transition to agriculture early inthe Neolithic is further backed up by stable isotope analysis, which indicates anabrupt shift to a predominantly terrestrial diet even on the coast (cf. Richards/Schulting 2006a,b; Richards et al. 2003c, 366; Schulting/Richards 2002a,b).22 Thedeconstruction of the three axioms thus forms an argumented reply to the currentconsensus of decoupling ideology and subsistence economy and represents a pleafor the reintroduction of domesticity to the debate.Towards a combined approachThe above-mentioned discussion has certain implications for research on theprocess of Neolithisation in the LRA and as such forms an incentive for thisstudy. One of the first issues raised is the current focus on social and ideologicalmotivations for adopting agriculture within a particularly postprocessual andindigenist framework (cf. supra). Apart from Rowley-Conwy (2004) other authorshave also warned against the various pitfalls surrounding social and ideologicalexplanations since as early as the 1980s (see Binford 2002(1983), 17; Bintliff1993, 92-95; Madsen 1986, 231; Shanks/Tilley 1989, 1-6; Shennan 1987, 378;Schulting 1996, 347). Yet current research more often than not is characterizedby a remarkable aversion to so-called external factors such as climate, populationgrowth and environmental changes. According to Price (2000c, 311), causalityshould even be sought elsewhere. This has led to the awkward situation wherebythe transition to agriculture, which is still importantly a change in subsistencemode, has increasingly been explained as predominantly a social and ideologicaltransformation initiated by the susceptibility of the present hunter-gatherers.Recently there has been a move away from this internalist premise (e.g. Ammerman2003; Binford 1999; 2001; Bogucki 2003a,b; Bonsall et al. 2002; Gkiasta et al.2003; Gronenborn 2004, Kalis et al. 2003; Layton 1999; McDermott et al. 2002;

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Stager/Mayewski 1997;Strien/Gronenborn 2005; Richards 2003) and RowleyConwys reappraisal of domesticity and subsistence-economy is an attempt toredress the balance in the search for causality.There is however a danger of overstretching the argument. For instance, recentclimatic arguments have (again) rather easily been adopted and endowed withcomplete explanatory value. It should be acknowledged that the past 20 years ofcontextual archaeology have provided a valuable contribution to understandingthe various aspects of the process of Neolithisation (see Jones 2004, in reply toRowley-Conwy 2004). It has demonstrated that while the transition to agriculturemay be characterized by a change in subsistence mode, the process of Neolithisationis a much more diffuse process, incorporating many aspects of society in spatiotemporally different constellations. To ignore this draws the academic debate onthe adoption of agriculture back into a polemic between the classical (Cartesian)opposites of nature and culture.23 There is thus a need for studies seeking to combineinternalist and externalist explications or at least address their applicability tocertain situations without ruling them out beforehand (see Arias 2004, in reply toRowley-Conwy 2004, 100; Barrett 2005; Gkiasta et al. 2003; Gronenborn 2004,24; Harris 2003, 52; Pinhasi/Pluciennik 2004, 74). However, and this brings usto another issue, research concerning the transition to agriculture also needs to reestablish a firm foundation rooted in reliable archaeological data.Rowley-Conwys article gives clear examples of the deficiencies of so-called posthoc accommodative argumentation (cf. Binford 2002(1983), 17). Archaeologicaldata is interpreted in the light of preconceived notions of past motivationsfor adopting (parts of ) the agricultural package. This has led to an increasingdetachment from the archaeological record, sometimes resulting in rather narrativeaccounts (e.g. Edmonds 1999). To bridge this inferential gap there is a need forbottom-up research within a geographically coherent context, incorporating newtheory without ignoring the limitations and patterning in the data.

2.5 Defining scope

The process of Neolithisation has been aptly described as a mosaic (Tringham2000a, 53-54). There is no singular explanation or motivation for either the spreadof farming or its adoption, certainly not on a European scale. Thomas (1996a,311-312) stresses the different temporalities of various aspects of the Neolithic,indicating that its appearance was anything but a homogeneous and synchronousevent. This is further elaborated upon by Price (2000c, 306), echoing Gould andEldredges model of punctuated equilibrium (1993) when he states that the spreadof agriculture is marked by series of rapid expansions followed by long periods ofstasis, fits and starts. Various authors (e.g. Gould 1999; Layton 1999; Sherratt 1996;Simmons 1999) have also introduced the concept of contingency to the debate,questioning whether the constellation of circumstances leading to the adoption ofagriculture is really that logical and structural. It may therefore be concluded thatthe process of Neolithisation is heterogeneous, discontinuous and to a significantextent dependent on specific spatially and temporally defined conditions. Fromthis two implications arise, fundamental to this study. Firstly, research should takeplace within a geographically and culturally meaningful region.24 This implies anabstinence from nomothetic explanations and a cautious use of archaeologicaldata from outside the regional framework in order to be able to appreciate the

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unique historiography within the area of research.25 Following this, theoretical

modelling regarding these developments in Neolithisation within these regionsshould take into account both the position and background of the populationliving there as well as incorporate the natural and dynamic characteristics of theregion itself and seek out the relationship between the two. Second, it demandsa test-of-mettle of the inferential power and constraints of the archaeologicalrecord within the area of research in order to provide a useful database to study thetransition to agriculture. While the former implication forms the main theme inChapters 5-8, the latter brings us back to Rowley-Conwys plea (2004, 88-90) forthe re-introduction of middle-range theory (cf. Binford 1977; 2002(1983)) to thedebate. To arrive at an empirically sound database for studying the transition toagriculture, there is a need for a taphonomical reconsideration of the archaeologicalrecord, especially of its most informative component, the site. This topic will beinvestigated in Chapter 4. First though, the following chapter will provide a moredetailed archaeological background for these issues, focusing on the LRA itself.

Notes1

7 8

Most scholars agree upon external cultivation of emmer wheat, oats, einkorn and barley and theintroduction of sheep and goat (Thorpe 1996, 22). Cattle and pigs were already present in Europebut most claims for local domestication can be refuted (see Bogucki 1999, 177; Rowley-Conwy2003).There have been some studies claiming that a local domestication could have taken place withinEurope (e.g. Barker 1985; Dennell 1983). Barker (1985, 252) argues, although he admits the uncertaincontext of some of his data, that the natural distributions of the wild prototype-domesticates couldhave been present in Southern Europe, implying internal domestication. Apart from the fact thatthis fails to explain the spread of farming further north, few of the early dates for local domesticatesappeared to remain tenable after AMS-dating (Ammerman 2003, 5). Recent investigations of cattleDNA also indicate a non-local origin (Bollongino/Burger 2007). Less controversial in this respect isthe evidence for the intensive relationship between hunter-gatherers and wild resources, even to thelevel of manipulation and control (Bogucki 1999; Price/ Brown 1985; Zvelebil 1994).The concept of the Neolithic package is a rather problematic one since, first and foremost, thereis an ongoing debate concerning what traits can be regarded as unambiguously Neolithic. Second,the existence and spread of a coherent and integrated set of traits, a package deal, remains far fromundisputed (e.g. Bogucki 1987; Czerniak 1998; Price 2000a; Thomas 1996a).The early dates claimed for several Southern French and Spanish sites such as Chateauneuf-lesMartiques, Grotte Gazel, lAbri Jean Cros or Dehesilla are untenable in the light of their problematicdating (see Barnett 2000; Donahue 1992; Whittle 1999). The start of the Impressed Ware complexin Southern France and Spain shortly after 6000 BC is now agreed upon by most scholars (Whittle1999, 301).The oldest phase of LBK spread is termed lteste or Krumlov LBK. It correlates with Moddermansphase Ia and can be dated to 5500-5300 BC. Around 5300 BC the LBK, now termed ltere LBKor Flomborn, spread into Northwestern Europe (Moddermans phase Ib-d). This was followed by aspread of the Jngere LBK (Moddermans phase IIa-d) into Hainault and the Paris Basin ending inthe Ruban Rcent du Bassin Parisien (RRBP) (Bogucki 1988; Louwe Kooijmans 1976b; Lning et al.1989; Modderman 1970).Newell (1970a,b) tried to assess the affinities existing between Bandkeramik and Late Mesolithic(Younger Oldesloe) flint assemblages. He concluded that the latter influenced the former up to thelevel of cultural re-orientation. Louwe Kooijmans (1976b, 235-236) convincingly argued that anyexisting influence would have been far more subtle.The assertion that La Hoguette or Limburg ware could be special-purpose pottery made by LBKpotters can largely be refuted on account of stylistic links, occurrence independently of LBK sitesand geographical distribution (e.g. Constantin 1985; Lning et al.1989; Raemaekers 1999).The contribution of wetland sites is especially relevant with respect to the LRA and adjacent NorthEuropean Plain wetlands as well as Mesolithic Southern Scandinavia. For the British Isles wetlandsseem more of a localized phenomenon (e.g. the Fenlands, Starr Carr and surroundings etc.).

36

persistent traditions

10

11

12 13 14 15

16

17

18 19

20

Subsequent post-LBK cultures such as the Michelsberg culture (MK), and the TRB culture(Trichterbecherkultur or Funnel Beaker) partially appear to have been the result of prolongedmeso-neo interaction (e.g. Bogucki 1987; Louwe Kooijmans 1993b; Midgley 1992; Raemaekers1999; Vanmontfort 2004; Verhart 2000; Thomas 1999; Wansleeben/Verhart 1990; Zvelebil 1998b).Thomas, reflecting on the differences between LBK and MK, even speaks of a Mesolithisation ofCentral Europe (1996a, 320). Both interaction as well as population mobility seem to have beenfactors in their development.Recent research focusing on strontium isotope evidence as well as DNA patterns is providing newdata with respect to these questions (e.g. Bentley 2007; Bentley et al. 2003; Haak et al. 2005; Priceet al. 2001; 2006; Smits et al. 2010). However, difficulties regarding provenance, contamination,limited availability of good sampling material and multiple interpretations still limit the power ofthese new methods.The different perspective on hunter-gatherer societies entailed a new bias, namely that of the OriginalAffluent Society (OAS), a term first coined by Sahlins (1968, 83). The groups of hunter-gatherersand their way of life were now idealized, characterising the transition to farming as a forced reactionto stress (Raemaekers 1999, 13; Thorpe 1996, 5). Later on another bias sprang from the apparenthunter-gatherer variability. OAS foragers were contrasted with complex foragers, suggesting anevolutionistic trend. Complex hunter-gatherers would be more inclined towards farming (Hayden1990; Rowley-Conwy 2001). This bias will be discussed more elaborately in Chapter 5.Although outdated there might be some validity in the superiority argument, in that peopleworldwide independently adopted agriculture within the short span of a few millennia. Apparentlythere is something of an irresistible quality to agriculture (Louwe Kooijmans 1998b, 15).Sedentism and the diversification of resource use are other elements in such models (Bogucki 1999,188),Both Thorpe (1996, 2) and Zvelebil (1986a, 9) classify the wave of advance model as belongingwithin the superiority paradigm, because of the rather passive role set aside for the Mesolithicpopulation.The wave of advance model justly received a lot of criticism (e.g. Dennell 1985; Price 2000a,c,Raemaekers 1999; Thomas 1996a; Whittle 1999; Zvelebil 1986a;1996;1998a, Zvelebil/Zvelebil1988). This mainly focused on the dubious nature of some of the 14C dates, the arguments forthe classification of sites as Neolithic, the problematic aspect of genetic correlation and the speedand gradual aspects of the process. However, Ammerman (2003, 13-18) stresses that the wave ofadvance was only meant to be a model. He holds much of the critique to be related to the currentlypopular indigenist point of view and argues to move beyond it.Sahlins publication Culture and Practical Reason (1976) can be seen as one of the fundamentalworks for the social approach. Sahlins argues that Man is not just a biological organism, but alsoa cultural organism striving to attain a meaningful life based on its own decisions instead of uponliving in a material world.Tilleys (1996) description of primitive communism, however, may suffer from some, often general,presumptions. Contrary to these, Late Mesolithic life was probably less egalitarian, tranquil andpeaceful than is often suggested. This is for example attested to by numerous violent deaths in LateMesolithic cemeteries such as Tviec in France, Vedbaek in Denmark and Voloshskoe and Vasilvkain the Ukraine (Schulting, 1996; Orschiedt 2004).Hodder (1998, 91) states that the concept of domus stands for the economic, social and culturalemphasis on the house and its continuity through time.Exemplary in this respect is Whittle (1996, 25). He suggests that the LBK longhouse figured ina mobile system and in this way facilitated integration, interchange and cohesion. In case of anindigenous development of longhouses Whittle considers the busyness of the interior with wood aslinked to possible animistic forager beliefs, enculturating the surrounding forest of trees.The dearth of domesticated plant remains in excavations and the abundance of wild species such ashazel, apple, pear and weeds for example had led to a ritualization of the cultigens that were presentat sites (see Thomas 1999). However, hazelnut shells are robust and survive charring relatively well,as opposed to cereal grains that were not intended to be discarded in the first place. Apart from thisthe common occurrence of wild apple and pear at sites might be due to the appearance of mantlevegetation induced by forest clearings. Weed seeds can stem from the processing of crops (RowleyConwy 2004, 90; also see Bakels 1978, 58-71). Another example is the fact that the unfamiliaritywith the concept of Neolithic houses has prevented them from being discovered in excavations,supporting the theory of a mobile and foraging Neolithic. This idea however stands in strikingcontrast to the actual number of identified house plans for Ireland, Britain and Southern Scandinavia(175) (Rowley-Conwy 2004, 87-93)

thoughts in transition a european perspective

37

21 The failure to find or recognize Neolithic houses is common in Northwest Europe in general.Examples are post-LBK cultures in the LRA such as the MK culture or the Stein group. These aremainly known from pits and scatters (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 1990; Vanmontfort 2004;Verhart 2000) as house plans are few and sparsely distributed (for a recent example see Van Kampen/Van den Brink 2013). Rowley-Conwys methodological critique (2004) therefore also applies tothese situations.22 Stable isotope analysis does suffer from several biases. It only indicates dietary habits of individualsand cannot distinguish between wild or domesticated resources (Milner et al. 2004). Liden et al.(2004) argue for Southern Sweden that the distinction between terrestrial and marine diet probablystems from geographical rather than chronological variation.23 This debate is strongly linked to both the conceptual appreciation of and earlier approaches inresearch taken towards the Mesolithic and the Neolithic.24 Often, literature discussing the transition to agriculture in Northwestern Europe is exclusivelybased on data stemming from Denmark, Southern Sweden and the UK (e.g. Rowley-Conwy 2004;Price et al. 1995). Another emblematic example of this is the fact that Prices (2000) substantivecompendium on Europes First Farmers conspicuously lacks a chapter on the Netherlands andBelgium. Also questionable are vaguely defined regions such as Boguckis riverine interior CentralEurope (2003a,b). The definition of archaeologically relevant regions should first and foremost bebased on archaeological arguments instead of research intensity, favourable preservation conditions,political borders etc. If not, arguments for extrapolation should be well-considered (also see Chapter3).25 This is definitely not an argument for a return to the parochialism that has hampered both Mesoand Neolithic research in Northwest Europe for a long time, but instead for a considered approachin defining meaningful regions for investigation.

38

persistent traditions

Chapter 3

Thoughts on transition - The Lower

Rhine Area

3.1 IntroductionAgainst the background of the transition to agriculture on a pan-European scale(as presented in the previous chapter), the focus now shifts to the process ofNeolithisation in the study region of the LRA. Apart from a discussion of severalof the main geographical and archaeological aspects that create a spatio-temporalcontext for this study, a number of factors distorting our perspective on thearchaeological information available as well as the developments in the past will bediscussed. Geomorphologically, the LRA constitutes the western part of the NorthEuropean Plain. To the south it is bordered by the Belgian and German mountainranges of the Ardennes and the Eifel and to the west and north by the North Sea.The eastern border runs through the German Bundeslnder Niedersachsen andRheinland-Westfalen, skimming the German mountain ranges (Mittelgebirge) andending in the North Sea west of Hamburg.The process of Neolithisation in this region can be characterised as both longterm and complex. It can, however, be conceptually divided into two separatephenomena, both with a distinctly different background yet both intricatelyinterlinked. The first can be seen as the classic Neolithic succession of Danubianorigin, involving the first LBK settlers and their successors, arriving in the LRAaround 5250 cal BC. Associated, and potentially pre-dating these developments,are groups producing La Hoguette pottery and Begleitkeramik (e.g. LouweKooijmans 2007a, 295). It is unknown to what extent they should be positioned ina process of Neolithisation. Since these groups are beyond the main scope of thisthesis they will only be dealt with cursorily (however, see Vanmontfort et al.(eds)2010a).The other phenomenon concerns the development and transition of thelocal Late Mesolithic hunter-gatherers into farmers, involving the Swifterbantculture and its successors. This process is geographically defined, focusing mainlyon the wetlands and wet margins between the Scheldt and Elbe, and can be placedroughly between 5500 and 2500 cal BC. The reader is referred to figs. 3.1-3.6 fora spatiotemporal and geographical background and to Louwe Kooijmans 1998a;2005a; 2007a; Raemaekers 1999; 2005a for a general overview).

3.2 Neolithic successions: a brief overview

The earliest clear evidence for Neolithic communities in the study area(Vollneolithikum) comes with the arrival of the Linearbandkeramik culture(LBK), settling mainly on the fertile patches of loess at the southern and easternmargins.1 The LBK entered the LRA during its second phase of spread, termed

Flomborn (see Gronenborn 2007; Louwe Kooijmans 2007a) and usually datedaround 5300 cal BC (Modderman 1970, phase 1b).2 Its main areas of settlementor Siedlungskammer can be pinpointed to the German Aldenhovener Platte, theDutch Graetheideplateau, and the adjacent Belgian loess area (see Bakels 1982;Kuper et al. 1977; Lning 1982a; 2000; Modderman 1985). Some smaller locationsappear further west in Belgium (e.g. Hainaut; Van Berg and Hauzeur 2001).By 4900 cal BC, the rather uniform tradition of the LBK is largely continuedin the east of the study area in the subsequent Rssen culture (4900-4300 calBC), preceded by the Grossgartach-horizon. Most settlements are known from theGerman Niederrheinische Bucht and, until now, apart from some isolated finds, thesite of Maastricht-Randwijck (Louwe Kooijmans 1988; Oude Rengerink 1991)forms the only Dutch counterpart. Although clearly the Danubian inheritorsof the LBK (Constantin 1985, 326; Jeunesse 1998; Lning 1982b), there aresome important differences. The Rssen settlement system appears to be moreflexible, abandoning the strict adherence to the loess. Settlements are now alsolocated in less fertile areas. They tend to be less numerous and more nucleated and

40

middle

(aceramic)

Ruban

La Hoguette

5500

(early)

Grossgartach

Limburg6500

??

Rssen

Villeneuve-SG

6000

Swifterbant

Bischheim

4500

phase 3

MK

III

Cerny

5500

late

( IV )

Dmmer

4000

(northern)

3500

5000

TRB

Hde 1

3000

Denmark

Beakers

Bell

Over

NetherlandsWestCentre North

persistent traditions

Fig. 3.1 Spatiotemporal

perspective on the differentMesolithic and Neolithiccultures. Accentuated in theupper bar is the study region,the Lower Rhine Area (basedon Louwe Kooijmans 2007a,fig. 2, version June 2009).

short-lived, featuring trapezoidal multi-family buildings and palisading (DohrnIhmig 1983; Lning 1982b). Bread wheat and barley are both new cultivatedwheats (Bakels 1990, 83-87) and wild and domestic animals were consumedin differing proportions (Raemaekers 1999, 140). Also, new flint sources areacquired. Exemplary of the intensified northern and western contacts with theLate Mesolithic and Swifterbant communities is the spread of the Rssen Breitkeileand (occasionally some) pottery over an extensive area (see Louwe Kooijmans1998a; Lning 1982b; Sherratt 1990; Verhart 2000, fig. 5.1; Van der Waals 1972).Further west, the LBK is succeeded by the Blicquy Group, concentrated in theLBK territories in Hainault and western Hesbaye.3 The group can be defined asa regional variety of the Groupe Villeneuve-Saint-Germain (e.g. Constantin/Illett1998) that originated out of the latest LBK phases in the Paris Basin (RRBP,Ruban rcent du Bassin Parisien). Its material repertoire is therefore clearly derivedfrom the LBK. Its temporal affiliations are subject of a heated debate concerningthe contemporaneity of the latest Bandkeramik phases with the Blicquy Group inBelgium. Since the resolution of the available 14C dates is inadequate, argumentsare based on stylistic disparities, (non-)association of finds and possible re-useof material (Caspar/Burnez-Lanotte 1998). Some authors such as Constantin(1985, 325; Constantin/Illett 1998) argue for a diachronic relation based on theapparent lack of sufficient contact finds. Others, such as Jadin (2003, 479-486)are convinced of the coexistence of both, whether aware or unaware of each other,even proposing the scavenging of each others sites.Both cultures in the research area are succeeded by the Michelsberg culturearound 4300 cal BC.4 (Louwe Kooijmans 1998a, 412; Vanmontfort 2004, 299300). The Michelsberg culture (MK) has a very distinctive cultural repertoire asattested by deep shaft mining, almost industrial characteristics of flint production,the construction of Erdwerke and the resemblances in pottery morphology (e.g. DeGrooth 1994; Louwe Kooijmans 2005a; Whittle 1999, 203). However, despite itsuniform appearance there is also clear evidence for regional variation, for exampleregarding pottery production and lithic technology. This may reflect formercultural traditions as well as chronological, geographical and economic variation(Louwe Kooijmans 2005a, 253, 256; Vanmontfort 2004, 323). The MK settlementsystem remains elusive, as only few house plans have been uncovered (see Bakels2009). Apart from taphonomical considerations this might be explained by aless robust architecture or possibly a higher degree of mobility (Schreurs 1992,163; Vanmontfort 2004, 329; Verhart 2000, 218-221). In Limburg and adjacentBelgium the MK also settles on the less fertile sandy or loessic sandy soils and theNorthwest group turns up as far north as the Mnster basin and the riverine areain the north (Louwe Kooijmans 2005a, 258; Lning 1968; Vanmontfort 2004).Although the palimpsest character of many settlements is not very informativethe apparent shifts in settlement location attest to an important adaptation ofthe agricultural system. This may relate to more emphasis on husbandry, but alsoto the appearance of new crops such as Durum wheat (see Bakels 2003; LouweKooijmans 2005a, 260).Around 3400 cal BC, the northern and eastern parts of the research areawitness the inception of the Neolithic TRB West Group (Van Gijn/Bakker 2005).Its origins may partially lie within the indigenous Swifterbant communities (seeTen Anscher 2012). It represents the western regional variant of the FunnelBeaker complex covering a large part of the North European Plain and Southern

Scandinavia (Midgley 1992; 2008). Well known for its megalithic burialmonuments, the hunebedden, the domestic aspects of the TRB West Group areless well-known. It is probable that some form of shifting cultivation agriculturewas practised (Van Gijn/Bakker 2005, 288). House plans, such as the one fromSlootdorp-Bouwlust (Hogestijn/Drenth 2000/2001, 44-55) and several Germanexamples, indicate rather small, two-aisled, rectangular structures (Van Gijn/Bakker 2005, 287; Midgley 1992). Bakker (1992) argues that this period also seesthe introduction of the ard and wheeled transport.

In the south the MK is succeeded by the Stein Group (cf. Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 1990). Apart from the chambered tomb discovered near Stein (SouthLimburg; Modderman 1964) the material legacy of the Stein Group is mostlyknown from a few pits as found at Linden-Kraaijenberg (Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 1990), Sittard-Hof van Limburg and Ittervoort (Drenth et al. 2003) aswell as surface sites. Recently very long (up to 30 m) rectangular house plans havebeen documented near Veldhoven (Van Kampen/Van den Brink in prep./2013).Culturally the Stein Group belongs to the Wartberg-Stein-Vlaardingen complex(WSV), which finds itself in-between the TRB West Group in the north and theSeine-Oise-Marne complex (SOM) further south (see Louwe Kooijmans 1976a,b;Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 1990).From 2900 cal BC onwards (Lanting/Van der Plicht 1999/2000, 35), both theTRB culture and the WSV complex merge into the Single Grave Culture. ThisLate Neolithic cultural complex, encompassing the later All Over Ornamentedphase and the subsequent Bell Beaker pottery tradition, bridges the gap to theEarly Bronze Age. In many ways the Single Grave Culture can be seen as a panEuropean phenomenon (Van Gijn /Bakker 2005, 305), forming a cultural breakwith the past.

3.3 On the fringe

The description above does not do justice to the complexity and variability ofthe Neolithic cultures involved or the mechanisms and details of their successionand relations. Yet generally the development and chronological outline of thesecultures is understood. What is also accepted is their economic status and character:apart from several exceptions or regional adaptations the subsistence mode wasessentially agricultural. This means that they can be seen as the main influence onor source of the second phenomenon, the transition of originally hunter-gatherersocieties into farmers.

thoughts on transition - the lower rhine area

43

In the following an overview shall be given of the developments in the wetlands

and wet margins of the LRA, since these communities, often pictured as beingon the receiving end form the main focus of this thesis. Apart from providing ageneral background, the different elements presented below form a framework forthe study of the specific character and nature of the transition to agriculture in theLRA, presented in Chapters 5-9.

3.3.1 Cultural developments

Sites of the Swifterbant Culture, the Hazendonk group and the Vlaardingenculture, communities combining both a farming and a hunter-gatherer existence,are mainly known from the Holocene sedimentation basin, although they aregeographically not absolutely restricted to this wetland area. This basin is situatedto the west and north of the loess and sandy Pleistocene uplands where most of thesites of the above-mentioned Neolithic cultures can be found (cf. Louwe Kooijmans1998a, 421). Late Mesolithic sites (see Chapter 5) have been documented in awider area, but distinct wetland sites that are the direct fore-runners of the sites ofthe Swifterbant communities have been found in these wetland areas (e.g. LouweKooijmans 2003; Peeters 2007).These societies only gradually adopted elements of the Neolithic package fromthe subsequent cultures on the uplands. Louwe Kooijmans (1993b, 131) introducedthe term extended broad spectrum to define their mode of subsistence consistingof a (continued) Mesolithic economy, combined with aspects of animal husbandryand crop cultivation (also see Chapter 7) Of these intermediate societies, theSwifterbant culture can be roughly dated between 5000 and 3400 cal BC (LouweKooijmans 2003; Raemaekers 1999, 108-112). It distinguishes itself from previousand contemporary Late Mesolithic communities by the use of pottery and later onby the piecemeal introduction and use of domesticates (Louwe Kooijmans 2001b,523; 2007a) and between c. 4300 and 4100 cal BC possible crop cultivation (Out2009, 444-445). The presence of small-scale cultivation has recently been furtherattested by the find of what may be small fields at Swifterbant-S4 (Huisman/Raemaekers 2008; Huisman et al. 2009). The Hazendonk Group emerges out ofthe southern Swifterbant communities around 3700 cal BC. There are indicationsin material culture for both an origin in the Swifterbant culture as well as distinctaffiliations with the Michelsberg Northwest Group (Louwe Kooijmans, 2006d,150-155; 2009; Raemaekers 1999, 156-157). Apart from convincing indicationsfor animal husbandry as well as crop cultivation at several sites (Louwe Kooijmans2007a; 2005a), there is also clear evidence for the construction of houses asattested at Wateringen IV (Raemaekers et al. 1997, 146-149). The excavationsat Schipluiden have yielded evidence for the first sedentary occupation, basedon evidence relating to subsistence, seasonality and settlement structure (LouweKooijmans 2006a). At Ypenburg the (organic) evidence is less convincing, but asedentary occupation is the most likely option (see Koot et al. 2008). From about3400 cal BC the relatively short cultural phenomenon of the Hazendonk groupevolves into the Vlaardingen culture or Vlaardingen group (Raemaekers 1999,178; Verhart 2010a). In the north the relationship and transition between thelast Swifterbant communities and the West group of the TRB remains poorlyunderstood (see, however, Ten Anscher 2012). The Vlaardingen group left someconvincing evidence of house construction, (e.g. Verhart 1992), but other sites

44

persistent traditions

yield a much more diffuse picture (Hogestijn/Drenth 2000; also see Chapters 7and 8). Furthermore, there is a remarkable variation in both geographical locationchoice as well as subsistence mode, incorporating, for instance, locations with ardmarks as well as sites with a relatively significant contribution of wild resources(Amkreutz 2010b; Van Gijn/Bakker 2005, 10-12). Culturally related to the SteinGroup, both end with the dominance of the Beaker cultures around 2500 calBC. These appear with the onset the Single Grave Culture around 2850 cal BC(Lanting/Van der Plicht 1999/2000, 35).

3.3.2 Material developments and contact

The Neolithisation process of the Delta communities studied here is geographicallyand chronologically flanked by developments taking place in adjacent Neolithiccommunities. From 5300 cal BC onwards the LBK and subsequent Neolithicgroups such as the Rssen and Michelsberg culture can be found to the south andeast, while later on the north and the northeast saw the development of the TRBNeolithic and the Single Grave Culture (SGC). It is evident that these groups overtime formed the major source of inspiration, either through direct contact andexchange, or through the transmission of ideas, for the Neolithic developmentsin the wetlands and wet margins. The most characteristic steps will be brieflydiscussed below. A more elaborate discussion may be found in Chapter 7.Contacts in stoneA first step involves evidence of contact between the Danubian Neolithic andLate Mesolithic or Swifterbant communities further north and west. This isbest demonstrated by the dispersal of Bandkeramik adzes and, later on, the evenwider distribution of Rssen Breitkeile. Although the exact interpretation of thesefinds is hampered by various difficulties (Amkreutz et al. 2009), it is most likelythat their occurrence is the result of exchange between foragers and farmers (seeVerhart 2000; 2012; Raemaekers et al. 2011).5 Due to the absence of contextualinformation it is difficult to date this exchange and interaction, but it is likelythat it continued well into the 5th millennium cal BC. Next to Breitkeile southerncontacts are also reflected in the presence of raw materials such as Rijckholt flintor flint of Lightgrey Belgian type. Specifically compelling and early were thefinds of at least one LBK point made from a blade of Rijckholt flint and a precore of Rijckholt flint at the site of Hardinxveld-Giessendam Polderweg (LouweKooijmans 2003).Contacts in ceramicsThe first evidence of local indigenous pottery production, marking the start ofthe Swifterbant culture, has been documented for the last phase of occupation atHardinxveld-Giessendam Polderweg and dates around 5000 cal BC (ibid.; LouweKooijmans 2011; Raemaekers 2011, 452).6 Other early Swifterbant pottery wasfound at Hoge Vaart-A27, Bronneger and Hde I (see Appendix I). The earliestSWB pottery predates the Erteblle ceramics by some 300 years. Comparable earlypottery has been found in the German Baltic area, most notably at Schlamersdorf.This pottery was 14C dated to c. 5300 cal BC, but this date is probably a coupleof hundred years too old due to the reservoir effect (Hartz et al. 2002, 330).This and, for example, the absence of lamps, eliminates the Erteblle culture as

thoughts on transition - the lower rhine area

45

a source for the origins of Swifterbant pottery (see Raemaekers 1997; 2011), yetdoes not provide further evidence for its inspiration or development.7 In generaltwo theories are presented. The first of these interprets the Swifterbant andErteblle pottery as (partially) belonging to a broader and widespread traditionof point-based pottery stretching across the whole of the Northern Europeanplain and into the lake areas of northern Poland and Russia (e.g. Cromb 2009;Ilkiewicz 1989; Van Hoof 2005; Raemaekers/De Roever 2010; De Roever 2004;Timofeev 1998). This interpretation specifically stresses the cultural contactbetween indigenous groups of hunter-gatherers and the transmission of knowledgeof pottery production between these groups (see Louwe Kooijmans 1998a, fig.5). The other theory argues that the origins of the indigenous pottery are to befound in the Danubian Neolithic (Cromb et al. 2011a; Louwe Kooijmans 2010a;2011). While certain authors have attempted to pinpoint a source ranging fromLa Hoguette and the LBK to the Rssen culture (see Hogestijn/Peeters 1996; TenAnscher 2012; Raemaekers 1999, 141; De Roever 2004, 151-152) this remainsdifficult to ascertain with any certainty. Recently a plausible hypothesis has beenforwarded that separates execution from inspiration. It is argued here that whilethe southern (LBK) sphere is likely to have formed a source of inspiration forthe origins of Swifterbant pottery, the execution is distinctly local. For instance,the coiling technique used in some ways resembles the manner in which basketswere woven (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2010a; Raemaekers/De Roever 2010). LouweKooijmans (2010a) argues that it was probably the men within hunter-gatherercommunities that became acquainted with these new techniques and materialson their expeditions. Despite these arguments the actual rationale behind thequestion why communities started producing pottery, its effects and the changesit brought about, unfortunately remains poorly understood (however, see Barnett2009; Budja 2009), but most likely (also) relates to new consumption methods.

3.3.3 Introducing domesticates and cultigens

Another hallmark of the process of Neolithisation is the introduction of domesticanimals. The first bones of domesticated animals in Swifterbant context havebeen documented for phase 3 at Hardinxveld-Giessendam De Bruin. They datebetween 4700 and 4450 cal BC and comprise cattle, pig, sheep and goat (LouweKooijmans 2003; 2007a, 297). Further north, in Schleswig-Holstein, a limitednumber of bones of cattle were also dated to c. 4600 cal BC at the site of Rosenhof(Hartz et al. 2002, 327; 2007), but their context and date are questionable (NoeNygaard 2005). It should be noted that the first appearance of domesticatedanimals does not necessarily imply a drastic economic change. Based on theinformation available the number of bones of domestic animals in the earliestphase of the Swifterbant culture appears to be rather limited, as is demonstrated atHardinxveld-De Bruin (Louwe Kooijmans 2007a), or even absent, as at Hoge Vaart(see Appendix I). At many later Swifterbant sites the economical contribution oflivestock distinctly forms part of a wider choice (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2007a;Zeiler 1997). Domesticated animals seem rather to contribute to what has beentermed an extended broad spectrum economy (Louwe Kooijmans 1993a; 1998a),whereby domesticates (next to crops) are one of many food sources exploited.

46

persistent traditions

Only in the subsequent Hazendonk and Vlaardingen groups do domestic animals,

especially cattle, form a more prominent contribution to the faunal spectrum atcertain sites (e.g. Schipluiden, Louwe Kooijmans 2006a,b).The earliest indications for cereal consumption and potential cultivation arefound in the middle phase of the Swifterbant culture between c.4300 and 4100 calBC (Out 2009; Raemaekers 1999).8 At Swifterbant-S3 grains and chaff of nakedbarley and emmer were found, while a substantial concentration or dump of charredcereals, chaff and internodes was found in Hazendonk phase 1 (Louwe Kooijmans1987, 232). These finds can be dated between 4300 and 4000 cal BC. Over theyears much discussion has focused on the question of whether or not the presenceof these cereals is indeed an indication for local crop cultivation or whether theywere either obtained through exchange with fully Neolithic (Michelsberg) farmersfurther south and east, or grown by the Swifterbant communities themselves onthe surrounding uplands and brought to the site seasonally. This especially raisedthe question of the feasibility of crop cultivation on the dunes and levees in thewetland parts of the LRA (e.g. Bakels 1986; 1988; 2000; Louwe Kooijmans 1993a;Out 2009; Raemaekers 1999; Weijdema et al. 2011). Both import and localproduction remain viable options (see Out 2009, Chapter 11) based on both olderdata as well as recent excavations (e.g. Huisman/Raemaekers 2008; Huisman et al.2009). This will be discussed in more detail in Chapters 7 and 8. It is, however,safe to assume that crop cultivation as well as animal husbandry at many sites inthe study area formed part of this extended broad spectrum of choices, instead ofbecoming the staple resource for these communities.

3.3.4 Settling down?

In relation to stock herding and crop farming, sedentism has often been seenas a further indication for a Neolithic existence. An important argument isformed by the evidence on seasonality. Unfortunately this evidence is stronglyinfluenced by taphonomical conditions (see Chapter 4), limiting the number ofsites with sufficient seasonal information. This topic will be further discussed inChapter 7. At many sites most evidence indicates an occupation during part ofthe year, probably with occasional short-term visits during other seasons. The firstconvincing seasonal evidence for year-round occupation dates to the Hazendonkgroup at the site of Schipluiden (Louwe Kooijmans 2006a, 486). Sedentism atthis location was supported by other arguments, most notably the continuedconstruction and maintenance of houses and a rather fixed settlement layout withyards (ibid.). While it was not possible to identify individual house plans, thisdid prove possible at the contemporaneous sites of Wateringen IV (Raemaekerset al. 1997) and Ypenburg (Koot et al. 2008). Unfortunately further evidence forsedentism remains limited, and little is known from contemporaneous Neolithicgroups. At later sites such as the TRB site of Slootdorp-Bouwlust (Hogestijn/Drenth 2000/2001) and the Vlaardingen site of Hekelingen III there is, however,evidence for a continued seasonal exploitation of certain locations.

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47

Since then a number of excavations, site reports and synthetic overviews haveexpanded our knowledge, both of these communities and of their way of life aswell as their position and role in shaping the process of Neolithisation within theLRA (e.g. Glasbergen et al. 1961; Kampffmeyer 1991, Louwe Kooijmans 1993a,b,1998a,b; 2009; Raemaekers 1999; De Roever 2004). The apparent cultural andgeographical disparity of the above-mentioned phenomena can, in the light of thelong time span involved, be considered as an ideal set of conditions for studying thetransition to agriculture. Although we are not dealing with isolated developmentsthe process of Neolithisation can, as it were, be studied in slow-motion here,focusing on elements of contact, adoption and integration. This makes the LRA ameaningful and very valuable region for research.The brief characterization sketched in this chapter provides a general frameworkfor most characteristic developments within the process of Neolithisation in theLRA, both regarding the fully Neolithic communities as well as the groups situatedin the wetlands and their margins that are of the most interest of this study. Ingeneral and summarizing, it can be stated that there is a very gradual adoptionof pottery (production) initially, and then domesticates and cultigens, into LateMesolithic and subsequent Swifterbant communities. Most of the material andstylistic evidence points to interaction with Neolithic communities in the south. Bythe time of the Hazendonk group most elements of a farming economy, includingsedentism, were present, although a considerable variation between sites remains(Amkreutz 2010b; Louwe Kooijmans/Verbruggen 2011). The Vlaardingen cultureforms a final stage in this development, yet remains characterized by diversity.While such a general outline may be given, it should be noted that much stillremains unresolved concerning the exact temporality and character of the individualdevelopments. This thesis mainly aims to contribute to this problem by furtheringour understanding of the transition from the perspective and disposition of theindigenous communities involved in the Late Mesolithic to Vlaardingen culturesequence. In order to do so, however, a number of complicating factors shouldbe defined that impair our understanding of these communities, our analysisof their economic adaptations, settlement system and social structure as well asour interpretation of these and other aspects in terms of a transition towards anagricultural way of life.

3.4.1 Bias I: the upland-wetland dichotomy

At any rate the wetland-upland distinction is ours, based on our geological erudition,separating the Holocene from the Pleistocene geology (Louwe Kooijmans 1999,111). The first bias is of an essentially physical nature, although its appreciationand interpretation are less unequivocal. The amelioration of the climate at thetransition from the Pleistocene to the Holocene (c. 8800 cal BC) led to the meltingof the ice caps and a rise in sea-level.9 This had rather drastic consequences forthe subsequent geological development of large parts of the LRA, dictating thedistribution of wet and dry land, natural resources and inhabitable places, butalso for archaeological insight. The transgression of the North Sea and the relatedrise of the groundwater table further inland mainly affected the lower lying areassuch as the central river district, the IJsselmeer Basin and the northern parts of theprovinces of Friesland and Groningen. These areas functioned as sedimentationbasins under the influence of both the sea and hinterland river systems (De

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Mulder et al. 2003, 16; Zagwijn 1986, 27). A range of typical coastal and fluvialwetland landscapes came into existence that were buried or removed again as theinfluence of the sea expanded, shifting the entire system further west (Berendsen2005(1997), 153-180; Louwe Kooijmans 1985, 25-28). These gradients becamemore or less transfixed as sea levels decreased at the onset of the Subboreal (c.4050 cal BC; Gehasse 1995, 194). The stabilization of the coastal belt enabledthe growth of saltmarshes and peat over what were previously tidal flats and theinfluence of fresh water (fluvial or through precipitation) caused desalination ofthe soil. Further inland, separated by a zone of estuarine creek systems, lake andpeat formation was followed by that of both extensive oligotrophic and eutrophicfens interspersed with riverine sediments (e.g. Gehasse 1995, 194; Van Gijn/Louwe Kooijmans 2005a, 208; De Mulder et al. 2003, 223-230). These processescontrast with the Holocene impact on the uplands, both on the loess and on thecoversand. Apart from local peat growth, erosion or local fluvial and colluvialprocesses, these areas remained relatively unaltered.The dichotomy between the upland and wetland has led to biases on severallevels. The first level is taphonomical. The different geological background has ledto a marked difference in preservation. Quantitatively, sites in the wetlands are farless numerous. The main reason for this is that thick layers of sediment coveredthem, preventing easy discovery and making excavation a rare and costly exercise.Besides, many former outlying coastal areas were lost during the transgressionof the sea until c. 4000 cal BC (see De Mulder et al. 2003, 223-224).10 On thePleistocene upland, sites are often still located on or at the surface and can bediscovered by survey. Qualitatively, however, the few wetland sites yield a wealthof unique information. Usually the organic preservation of perishable objects orthe palaeoecological potential as reflected in faunal and botanical remains arestressed in this respect (e.g. Coles/Coles 1989). Of equal importance, however,is the preservation of distinct spatial patterning and chronological resolutionthrough sedimentation. Stratigraphy and microstratigraphy enables the discoveryand localization of episodes or phases of habitation and site-use (LouweKooijmans 1997; 1999). This contrasts dramatically with most upland sites. Noncarbonized organic remains often are not preserved due to the natural acidityof the soil (e.g. Bakels 2005; Bakels/Zeiler 2005, 311; Price 1978, 81; Verhart2000, 47, Vermeersch 1989, 284-286). Apart from this the stability of the surfaceminimalized spatial as well as chronological information while re-use and siteformative processes completed the development of palimpsests (see Chapter 4).This unbalanced distribution of archaeological data quite evidently raises thequestion of representativeness.On the dynamic level of past societies the same distinction is of importance.Clearly there are differences between wetland and upland environments concerningthe distribution and quantity of resources, inhabitable places or availability offarmland, but the important question here is whether this is a difference of kind,or degree. Were the different wetland landscapes part of a broad range of usedenvironments, or did they represent something different, requiring certain skills oradaptations? Did communities specifically focus on their exploitation or always aspart of something else? How wet were the uplands in comparison (Bakels/Zeiler2005; Louwe Kooijmans 1986; 1997)? The answer to these questions and theinterpretation of the wetland environments is not only complicated by the abovementioned taphonomic bias, but also by our own etic bias. Many wetlands are still

thoughts on transition - the lower rhine area

let alone agriculture. This perception need not have been analogous with theprehistoric perception (ibid.), which dictates that we try to answer the question ofrepresentativeness principally on the basis of our archaeological data-set, howeverunbalanced it may be. These topics will be touched upon in Chapters 4 and 7-8.

3.4.2 Bias II: the Scandinavian paragon

The second bias is of a more historical nature, but is related to that describedabove. For a long time the supposed limited potential of our archaeologicalrecord forced researchers to look abroad for parallels. Price (2003, 274), reflectingon his career stated: My research here [the Netherlands] solidified my interest inthe Mesolithic but, at the same time, made me aware that better preservation wasessential for understanding prehistoric hunter-gatherers. For the Late Mesolithicin general and the Early and Middle Neolithic on the Northwestern fringe thisoften meant a comparison with high-quality South-Scandinavian sites (see LouweKooijmans 2001a; 2005b). Post-war research mainly focused on typological andtypo-chronological aspects (e.g. Bohmers/Wouters 1956) and the association witheither northern (Maglemose/Kongemose) or western (Sauveterre/Tardenoisien)traditions. For the end of the Late Mesolithic Newell distinguished the De LeienWartena complex, also related to the Nordic traditions (Newell 1973, 407). Lateron parallels for other aspects such as subsistence, housing, burial customs andsettlement system were often found in Denmark or Southern Sweden (e.g. Gehasse1995, 211-216; Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 97; Newell 1973, 410-415;Smits/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 431-432; Verhart 2000, 123). Apart from theseparallels, the Swifterbant culture, specifically, is often linked more directly to theDanish Erteblle culture because of (supposed) material similarities, especially inthe pottery (De Roever 1979; 2004). This sometimes led to the assumption thatSwifterbant was a southwestern variant of Erteblle. Thorpe (1996, 55): We shouldnot, however, underestimate the importance of the links visible at the Swifterbant siteswith gatherer-hunter practices to the north in the pottery Another example isThomas (1996a, 316): An interconnected group of later Mesolithic communities onthe North European Plain, of which the Erteblle are merely the most archaeologicallyvisible (e.g. Zvelebil and Rowley-Conwy 1986). Stapel (1991) and especiallyRaemaekers (1997) have recognized and commented on this problem. Raemaekersclearly states that the similarities between both cultures are mainly restricted tothe occasional occurrence of point-based pottery in Swifterbant context, arguingfor a rather divergent character of both groups (1997, 229).Another result of the more informative Scandinavian data-base is the factthat certain models used to describe and explain the transition to agriculture inNorthwestern Europe are based upon Scandinavian evidence or research. Themost influential is without a doubt the availability model designed by Zvelebiland Rowley-Conwy in 1984. This descriptive model has been mentioned and usedin many studies on the transition to farming in the LRA (e.g. Van Gijn/LouweKooijmans 2005b; Gehasse 1995; Out 2009; Raemaekers 1999; Louwe Kooijmans1998a,b; Louwe Kooijmans 2001a,b, Vanmontfort 2004). The availability model ingeneral describes three phases within the transition to agriculture (see fig. 3.7). Thefirst phase, or the availability phase, is marked by some exchange of materials orinformation between foragers and farmers, but domesticates and cultigens do not

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Availability Phase:Foraging principlemeans of subsistence,domesticates andcultigens less than 5%of total remains.

Farming as a proportion of economy (%)

100

80

60

40

20

Fig. 3.7 The availability model

(adapted from Zvelebil 1986a;1998a).

Time

make up more than 5% of the total remains within the assemblages of the huntergatherer economies. Both remain culturally and economically independent. Inthe subsequent substitution phase there is some form of competition betweenthe farming and foraging way of life, which is eventually responsible for anincreasing decline of the latter. Domesticates and cultigens make up 5-50% inthis transitional phase. The process ends with the consolidation phase whencultigens and domesticates make up more than 50%. Farming is the principalmode of subsistence (Zvelebil/Rowley-Conwy 1984; Zvelebil 1986a,b). Althoughthe model cannot be denied a certain elegance, it was originally conceived withreference to the Scandinavian situation. This is most markedly demonstrated bythe substitution phase, which is presumed to have been short, mainly because of thedifficulties in maintaining a subsistence strategy comprising both a considerableamount of hunting and gathering as well as farming (Zvelebil/Rowley-Conwy1984, 112; Zvelebil 1996, 326; 1998a, 11). This seems to be inspired by the ratherabrupt shift to agriculture marking the start of the Neolithic in both Scandinaviaand Great Britain around 4000 cal BC. Louwe Kooijmans (1998a, 422-425) andRaemaekers (1999, 187) have therefore both questioned the applicability of themodel for the LRA, arguing that the region, by contrast, experienced a rather longsubstitution phase (also see Chapter 7 as well as Pluciennik 1998, 68; Thomas1988). Associated with this is the detailed analysis of the transition to agricultureand forager-farmer interactions in the circum-Baltic region (Zvelebil 1996; 1998a),which seems quite unrealistic for the LRA.

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Using Scandinavian data to patch up the deficiencies of the archaeological

record of the LRA and elsewhere (e.g. Armit/Finlayson 1992, 665) is not anerroneous practice in itself. In the LRA there are more or less evident culturalsimilarities on several levels (Louwe Kooijmans 2003, 621). Most Scandinaviandata, however, stems from either the Boreal Maglemose culture or the later Erteblleculture (Louwe Kooijmans 2001a, 464). The intermittent Kongemose culture,ending around 5400 cal BC, currently is far less informative, thus providing askewed parallel case-study. Another danger lies in the recurring association of theScandinavian Late Mesolithic with the concept of complexity (e.g. Zvelebil 1996,1998a) and the applicability of this to the situation in the LRA. Complex huntergatherers are often associated with certain traits setting them apart from otherforagers.11 Price and Brown (1985, 10-12) name: intensification of production,technological innovations, specialization, reduction in mobility, increasedterritoriality, extensive and differentiated settlements, complex burial traditions,storage etc. (cf. Testart 1982). Elements of these characteristics of complexhunter-gatherers can be found in the archaeological record of the Late Mesolithiccommunities of Southern Scandinavia (e.g. Andersen 1994; 2004; Grn 1987;Larsson 1990; Mller et al. 2002 (1900)). This does not justify their applicabilityto the situation in the LRA (e.g. Verhart 2003), yet some aspects of complexity,such as an increasing population density, smaller territories, more sedentism andassociated cemeteries have also been suggested for the Late Mesolithic of this region(e.g. Deeben/Van Gijn 2005, 192-197; Neeley/Clark 1990; Newell 1970a,b).The problem of using the notion of complexity will also be touched upon inChapter 5. Here it suffices to mention that complex hunter-gatherers are oftenseen as the apogee of foraging communities, suggesting the existence of a logicalevolutionary development from simple to complex (Hodder 1990, Price/Brown1985). This often leads to the assumption that these communities were theones predisposed to agriculture, exhibiting a higher degree of sedentism, socialstratification etc. (ibid.; Bogucki 1999; Price 1996). The concept of complexhunter-gatherers as well as its neo-evolutionist connotations have received criticismmainly because of many of these associated assumptions (Rowley-Conwy 1998;2001). Despite it remaining a contentious term, it generates many questionsregarding site-function, settlement system and social structure, rendering it avaluable concept for testing, also in the LRA. Both the concept of complex huntergatherers as well as the use of Scandinavian parallels may therefore aid in ourunderstanding of the transition to agriculture, but their use should be conditionalin order to avoid careless extrapolation (also see Armit/Finlayson 1992, 665).Research should primarily be based on our own archaeological record. Only bytaking into account the regional context of the communities studied is one ableto ascertain to what extent defined characteristics are of a general or more specificnature, related to living in and dealing with a certain environment.

3.4.3 Bias III: the constructs of Mesolithic and Neolithic

The last bias to be analysed here is of a conceptual nature and concerns the meaningand implications of the terms Mesolithic and Neolithic. After Thomsen dividedprehistory according to his Three Age System, Lubbock (1865) subdivided theStone Age into a Palaeolithic and a Neolithic era. The main criterion for thelatter period was the presence of polished stone tools as opposed to chipped tools.

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Later, other elements were added such as pottery, which is still one of the maincharacteristics of the Neolithic in Russia (e.g. Gronenborn 2003a). In The Dawnof European Civilisation (1976 (1925)), Childe advanced food-production as themain distinguishing criterion for the Neolithic, an idea adopted from Elliot Smith(e.g. Pluciennik 1998; Raemaekers 1999), which became applied widely as theprimary determinant. Apart from economical or material correlates however, theconcept of the Neolithic in time also became imbued with technological, socialand ideological meaning (e.g. Hodder 1990, Thomas 1999). Especially in thelight of demic diffusion these different traits were often seen as a package deal ofwhich the identification of one (or more) element(s) signalled the presence of therest (cf. Price 2000a, 5).The acceptance of the Mesolithic was not undisputed. Westropp conceivedthe term Mesolithic in 1872 to accommodate for the hiatus existing betweenLubbocks Old Stone Age and the Neolithic. For historical reasons the termdid not catch on, mainly because its usage was internally inconsistent (RowleyConwy 1996, 940-944). Eventually it did but it was seen as a period of stagnation,degeneration and decline between the artefactually rich and more imaginativePalaeolithic and Neolithic periods (Childe 1976 (1925); Clark 1978). Later therich results of excavations at Starr Carr (Clark 1954) and the general reappraisalof hunter-gatherers initiated by the Man the Hunter conference (Lee/DeVore1968; Sahlins 1968), led to a revision of the Mesolithic period. From the 1980sthe concept of complexity and the shifting emphasis in favour of a significantindigenous contribution to the process of Neolithisation (cf. supra), furtherconsolidated its chronological and historical position (e.g. Pluciennik 1998; Price2000a; Zvelebil 1986a,b).Both the concepts of Meso- and Neolithic have become universally accepted.Their meaning or connotations, however, have remained subject to frequentalterations and additions, but these have failed to accommodate for the existingvariability both of the Mesolithic and the Neolithic (e.g. Zvelebil 1986a, 6).This is germane to the LRA as well, since this region is characterized by hybridcommunities. These groups combine classical Neolithic elements such as pottery,polished stone tools, a certain level of sedentism and use of cultigens in varyingproportions and compositions within an essentially hunter-gatherer way of life.From this it follows that at least the adoption, if not the existence, of a Neolithicpackage can be refuted for these communities. Since the existing terminologyhas proved to be inadequate, various subcategories like Subneolithic or ForestNeolithic have been introduced (e.g. Werbart 1998; Zvelebil 1986a,b). It may,however, be argued as well that the categories defined are perhaps superfluous.Czerniak argues: it can be concluded that there are no true definitions of suchconcepts as the Neolithic. The answers to what occurred in the Neolithic transitionare based on a complex set of assumptions, only a few of which can be, and have been,subjected to empirical investigation (1998, 30).This loss of meaning of the constructs of Mesolithic and Neolithic, the limitsof generalization within the process of Neolithisation, poses problems in definingan overarching conceptual framework in the study of the transition to agriculture.One answer has been to abandon existing terminology altogether (e.g. Gamble1986b, 33-34, 40; Zvelebil 1986a, 6-7), yet this transforms archaeologists intoresearchers of specific historic particularities, failing to detect interconnectednessas well as understanding what Neolithisation is about (see Czerniak 1998, 29;

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Raemaekers 1999, 12). A more popular approach has been the definition ofsubsistence and the dependence of communities on domesticates and cultigens tobe the prime marker of the Neolithic (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 1998a,b; Raemaekers1999; Zvelebil 1986a; Zvelebil/Rowley-Conwy 1984). However one may wonderwhether the hegemony of subsistence as the defining feature of the Neolithic(Pluciennik 1998, 77) is justified. Pluciennik (2008, 27) argues that a sole focuson the transition in subsistence could also lead to a conceptually homogenousNeolithic, in the same way that hunter-gatherers were often characterized inecological terms. Especially in the light of the criticism over the decoupling ofideology and subsistence (cf. supra; Rowley-Conwy 2004), this also applies to theeconomic side of the debate.Over the past decade several scholars have attempted to bridge this theoreticaland conceptual gap by offering hypothetical solutions as well as suggestions forfurther research (e.g. Czerniak 1998, Pluciennik 1998, Zvelebil 1989). More oftenthan not these have remained on a supra-regional and abstract theoretical level.In order to address the above-mentioned problems archaeologically, it is necessaryto (re)define the conceptual parameters within which we study the transition toagriculture in the LRA.Dealing with Neolithic premisesAs already noted above, the main emphasis in characterizing the Neolithic andNeolithisation has shifted from material innovation to economic change markedby the transition from living off the land to actual food production (e.g. Zvelebil/Lillie 2000). Ever since Childe (e.g. 1958; 1976(1925)), the agricultural premise,in combination with other traits such as house construction, sedentism andpottery, has formed the primary constituent of what has been conceived of as theNeolithic package (see Price 2000a, 4-5). In this way the Neolithic is interpretedas a unified phenomenon, the individual elements of which signal the presenceof the whole. Over the years various scholars have rightly addressed the temporaland spatial incongruities involved with this point of view and questioned theexistence of a coherent, integrated set of cultural and economic traits altogether(e.g. Bogucki 1987; Czerniak 1998; Thomas 1996a, 310; Edmonds 1999, 6).12This formed the basis for our awareness of the diversity and spatiotemporal varietyexisting in the many transitions to agriculture, of the mosaic as it were (cf. Robb/Miracle 2007; Tringham 2000a) of regionally specific situations.Nevertheless it should be acknowledged that identifying a set of characteristicbenchmarks for the Neolithic has remained important. Unpacking the Neolithicwill continually lead to the identification of certain elements or traits which froma general perspective remain typically Neolithic. Whittle (1999, 6) thereforeargues that the existence of some form of agricultural package is still widelyaccepted, but it is argued here that the identification and composition of such aset of traits can and should only function as an idealized template against whichactual data may be tested. As such, these traits or characteristics act as generalpoints of reference. From this perspective a classic outline of the Neolithic ofNorthwestern Europe can be drawn. To what extent this outline applies to regionsand areas of study should remain to be determined. For the LRA it may be addedthat much of our perception on what the Neolithic is about is coloured by theDanubian LBK Neolithic and perhaps to a lesser extent by the later TRB groups.As for example argued by Louwe Kooijmans (1998b, 41, 49), the LBK should be

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seen as a rather unique Neolithic phenomenon. Its rigid characteristics differed notonly from the existing indigenous communities, but also from ensuing Neolithicgroups. The more mobile existence and different exploitation of the landscapeof this evolved Neolithic, such as the MK, may have been more in line withand perhaps even partially rooted in the lifeways of previous indigenous groups(e.g. Cromb/Vanmontfort 2007; Thomas 1996a; Vanmontfort 2007). Definingtypically Neolithic premises therefore may sometimes become a dangerouslysubjective endeavour (see also Chapter 6).

3.5 Perspectives on Neolithisation

As demonstrated above a number of factors influence the debate on the transitionto agriculture. These range from the regional landscape and geomorphologicalsituation to general theoretical issues. It is important to be aware of these aspectsas well as the manner in which they influence our perspective on the situation inthe LRA. In the following, therefore, a general outline will be given as to how thisstudy will negotiate these issues as well as a definition of the perspectives fromwhich it intends to approach the process of Neolithisation.1. The constructs of both the Mesolithic and the Neolithic are retained asconceptual tools. Chronologically both are linked with partially concurrentcultural phenomena; the Late Mesolithic ending with either the start of theLBK (5300 cal BC) or Swifterbant Culture (4900 cal BC) (cf. Lanting/Vander Plicht 1997/1998, Raemaekers 1999), or at least before the start of theMK-culture around 4400 cal BC (see Verhart 2000; Vanmontfort 2004).13Qualitatively the Mesolithic and Neolithic are envisaged as less rigid categoriesrepresenting either end of a continuous spectrum. Both therefore are subjectto constant redefinition.14 Research should thus include an active search forthe constituent elements of Neolithic society as well as its archaeologicalcorrelates (Zvelebil 1989, 382).15 This should primarily be done within acoherent regional framework and from a bottom-up perspective.2. The primacy of (domesticated) subsistence is not regarded as the onlydefining criterion of the Neolithic (contra Zvelebil 1998a, 9; Zvelebil/Lillie2000). Subsistence should be correlated with or linked to other elements,be they social, ideological or material (see also Pluciennik 1998; RowleyConwy 2004). This could be termed a relational or contextual approachin that the specific composition of archaeological data at a site within itsgeographical, ecological and social context is indicative for the level ofNeolithisation. It is realized that within this approach subsistence remainsa crucial category since it is a less ambiguous and more direct indicationof the dependence on domesticates. Its importance however clearly hingesupon its use. Zvelebil (1998a, 11) and Raemaekers (1999, 13) argue that thepresence of domesticates should be correlated or calibrated for a regional scaleor cultural unit to compensate for taphonomically induced variability as wellas existing site variability. This is understandable yet problematic, since itassumes that what is defined by pottery and associated artefacts are in fact alsoeconomically and socially homogeneous communities. Furthermore, it alsosuggests that the transition to agriculture was a unidirectional event. To avoidthese culture-historical connotations in this study, subsistence will primarily

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be established and calibrated per site. Extrapolation should then take place onthe basis of contextual and archaeological arguments (see Chapters 7 and 8).Furthermore, Raemaekers (1999, 13) argues that classification of sites shouldbe based on absence/presence rather than proportional data, because themain concern is the incorporation of domesticates in the subsistence base ratherthan the proportion of peoples diet provided by domestic animals. This,however, is questionable, since it approaches Neolithisation as somethingrather static, an either/or situation. According to this study communitiesshould, when possible, be appreciated on a qualitative basis. For domesticatesand cultigens this specifically relates to quantity and proportion. Keeping agoat is altogether different from having to rely on and tending a substantialherd of cows.3. It is time to inject the debate on the transition to agriculture in the LRA withan appropriate dose of historicity. Studying the process of Neolithisation canbe regarded as studying a mosaic of different situations and particularities(cf. Tringham 2000a, 53). There is a certain risk in trying to define generalnomothetic laws or aspects of Neolithisation even within a region like theLRA. Czerniak in this respect refers to pitfalls of universalism, rationalism andprogress (1998, 30-31). However one cannot deny the fact that eventually,after several millennia, the hunter-gatherers of the LRA did become farmers(Louwe Kooijmans 1998b, 15, 39, 50). The introduction of historicitytherefore is not intended as a justification to stop searching for structureor specific characteristics. Rather it is a potential tool for investigating thevariability existing within the period of transition and shifts the focus fromthe concepts of Meso- and Neolithic to the period of transition as such (cf.Pluciennik 1998, 79).4. A final perspective is formed by the necessity to study the process ofNeolithisation from a meaningful regional perspective that incorporatesaspects of landscape and environment and relates these to the communitiesliving there. This is based on the notion that the inhabitation of a certainregion and the connection between people and their land, significantlyshaped by their perception of it, may form an important factor in the overalldisposition of these groups and contribute to their mentalit or even identity(e.g. De Coppet 1985; Ingold 2000). This in turn also potentially influenceshow they approach, use and incorporate new resources. This will be furtherelaborated upon in Chapters 6-9. The LRA as a research area is too large toanswer these questions, simply because of the various and contemporaneousregional developments taking place, in different cultural as well as physicalsettings. The emphasis will therefore be placed on defining the existence ofregionally distinct traditions for the Late Mesolithic (Chapter 5). For thesubsequent communities in transition to agriculture, attention will shift tothe characteristics of inhabiting the wetlands and their margins (Chapters6-8). Since most of the sites in the cultural sequence from Swifterbant toVlaardingen are situated in or near the wetlands these and their landscape andenvironmental qualities will be argued to be meaningful in relation to boththe communities living there as well as the development of Neolithisation.

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3.6 Concluding remarks

The previous two chapters have provided a general outline regarding the archaeologyand theoretical debate of the process of Neolithisation, from a European perspectiveas well as focusing on the LRA study area. The main points that arose from thisexercise concerned the necessity to analyse and interpret the situation in theLRA within a regionally coherent context and without rigid ideas concerning themeaning and connotations of Mesolithic, Neolithic and the transition betweenthem. The aim in the following chapters is to arrive at an analysis of the transitionto agriculture in the LRA that is, importantly, rooted in both the communitiesand region itself and that approaches the process of Neolithisation less from itsgeneral implications and more from indigenous perception. The potential ofdifferent regional characteristics will be examined through an analysis of LateMesolithic sites within the LRA as well as for the Late Mesolithic-Vlaardingencontinuum in the wetlands (cf. supra). Different aspects of these topics will beaddressed. However, the following chapter will first deal with the characteristics,deficiencies and potential of the available dataset, addressing both methodologicaland taphonomic issues as well as the upland-wetland dichotomy.

Notes1

2 3

6 7

Another Neolithic culture is the La Hoguette group. Within the area of research it is mainly knownfrom concentrations of flint and mostly bone- or shell-tempered sherds as attested by sites such asSweikhuizen, Gassel, Ede-Frankeneng and Langweiler (Brounen/De Jong 1988; Brounen et al. 2010;Lning et al. 1989; Modderman 1987; Schut 1988). According to Raemaekers (1999, 136-138) itpredates LBK within the LRA, because, as opposed to the lteste LBK further south, it is absentfrom its assemblages. However it is found in a LBK context on the Aldenhovener Platte in Germany(Lning et al. 1989, 383) and at the Graetheide-cluster (Brounen/Vromen 1990) suggesting this isprobably due to a lack of research further complicated by difficulties of identification.Recently Lanting and Van der Plicht (1999/2000, 42-46) put forward arguments indicating that theLBK in these parts might have started later (around 5230 cal BC) and ended earlier, lasting no morethan 230 years for Southern Limburg.Although geographically hardly separable, Blicquy and Rssen are often interpreted as possibly twoculturally distinctive groups (cf. Louwe Kooijmans 2005a, 250). On the basis of artefactual andarchitectural evidence however Blicquy and the Rssen-linked cultural phenomena of Grossgartachand Hinkelstein seem to be clearly related (see Costantin/Illett 1998, 209-214).In the east the Bisscheim-phase forms the bridge between the Rssen and Michelsberg culture. Inthe west there seems to be a chronological hiatus between the Blicquy group and the Michelsbergculture (cf. Lanting and Van der Plicht 1999/2000, 18; Vanmontfort 2004, 300). This is probablylinked to a research bias.It is important to note that the dispersal of Breitkeile involves large parts of the North EuropeanPlain. This indicates that in spite of a lack of sites on the upland coversand, the area was frequentedand possibly also inhabited by people of the Swifterbant culture or contemporaneous groups. Italso underscores the intensity of contacts between these groups and those of the southern Neolithicbetween 4900 and 4400 cal BC. In contrast not many Breitkeile have been found in a settlementcontext. Two fragments were found at Swifterbant-S3 (Raemaekers 1999), and several other piecesat Hde I (Stapel 1991). Furthermore one complete Breitkeil was found in open association at theLate Mesolithic sites of Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek (Arts 1994), as well as an adze in a similar opencontext at Gassel-Over de Voort (Brounen/De Jong 1988).For recent overviews of Swifterbant pottery in the LRA see Cromb et al. 2011a; Louwe Kooijmans2011; Raemaekers 2011.Raemaekers (1997) provides further arguments against a cultural assimilation of the Erteblle andSwifterbant cultures. Apart from similarities there are various marked differences between the two.

thoughts on transition - the lower rhine area

57

10

11

12

13 14

15

The presence of cereals and pollen of cereals at Schokland-P14 is not discussed here because ofproblems involving the stratigraphy and dating of the individual layers at this site. This specificallyinvolves the long time spans represented by layers A, B and C. The supposed ard marks found atUrk-E4 are also excluded because of problems of identification and interpretation (see AppendixI).Around 10.000 BP the sea-level was still 40-50 meters below NAP. Great Britain was still part ofthe continent and a large part of the North Sea basin was dry. At the start of the Atlantic, a mere2000 years later, the present coastline was reached as the sea encroached even further inland (cf. DeMulder et al. 2003, 216-217).This severely hampers the interpretation of and relative importance attached to marine resources,coastal settlement and suitability for agriculture (Price 1987, 242; Raemaekers 2003, 746). Accordingto Van Gijsel and Van der Valk (2005, 68) and Vos and Kiden (2005, 31), this stagnation took placesomewhere between 4500 and 4000 cal BC.The construct of complex hunter-gatherers was partly a reaction to Sahlins Original Affluent Forager(1968) (Zvelebil 1986, 8). Publications by Binford (1980) and Woodburn (1980) were instrumentalin creating an awareness of a different kind of hunter-gatherers: less prone to opportunistic foraging,but employing a logistic mobility, delayed return systems, aspects of sedentism etc. (Rowley-Conwy2001).This has led some to try and identify a specific order as to what traits came first in a certain area orregion. Thomas (1999), for example, argues for material (monumental) change and accompanyingchanges in society in large parts of Britain, prior to major economic transitions. Similar approachesare adopted by Whittle (1999) and Edmonds (1999), while Hodder (1990; 1998), stresses thesocio-symbolic and ideological aspects of Neolithisation as crucial in enabling economic changeon an even larger scale. Criticism of these approaches correctly addressed the methodological andtaphonomic shortcomings of the data involved (Madsen 1986; Rowley-Conwy 2004).Another possibly earlier representative of the primary Neolithic in the LRA is the La Hoguettegroup. However, many issues concerning chronology, subsistence and relations to the LBK remainto be solved (see Louwe Kooijmans 1998a, 410, Lanting/Van der Plicht 1999/2000, 14-15).Thomas (1988, 59) clearly points out that the transition from the Mesolithic to the Neolithic is alsoa point at which our perception of the past changes. The former is linked to a Palaeolithic traditionconcerned with human behaviour in terms of adaptive responses to environmental pressures; thelatter considers human beings as purposive subjects, acting in pursuit of socially defined goals(Bailey/Milner 2003). It goes without saying that these models are obsolete even for the mostclassical cultural exponents of either the Mesolithic or the Neolithic but they are of course especiallydefunct when communities harbouring aspects of both are studied, such as those in the LRA.From this perspective it may be argued that the transition to agriculture is not synonymous withthe process of Neolithisation. While both terms will be used in this study the former stresses theimportance of agriculture as the distinguishing criterion, while the latter potentially incorporatesmany other developments and aspects. Use of the former therefore best fits the chronological periodstudied, while the latter more aptly defines the process and changes at hand.

58

persistent traditions

Chapter 4

Lower Rhine Area sites: a qualitative

review

4.1 IntroductionThis chapter provides a reflective overview of the qualitative aspects of sites andtheir datasets in the study area. The aim is to present the main formative factorsand methodological approaches and demonstrate how sites in different regionalsettings vary according to the sources of information available. In this respectit particularly focuses on aspects of taphonomy and site formation and dealswith the contrast between upland and wetland sites. It therefore also representsan outline of the quality and limitations of the available dataset, presented inAppendix I, for the period under investigation. The aim is to develop a frameworkof site formative inference for the LRA, roughly between 6000-2500 cal BC andas such an estimate for evaluating the character, nature and distribution of thedata available. Assessing the strengths and weaknesses of the sites we use in ourresearch into the transition to agriculture in this region might lead to a moreaccurate appraisalof the quality of our data as well as provide useful incentivesfor future research. This chapter has been divided into three main parts. Thefirst provides a regional background to aspects of site and assemblage formation.The second part deals with a number of formative and methodological issues andtraditions pertaining to how sites develop and how this influences research. Thefinal part presents an archaeological site typology of a number of characteristicsites and deals with the issues of wetland representativeness.

4.2 A regional distinction

An important factor in the nature and impact of postdepositional processes on thearchaeological record is the regional geomorphological and pedological situation,often in combination with the specific circumstances existing at the location of thesite. Groenewoudt (1994, 50-51) distinguished thirteen different archaeoregionsfor the Netherlands, that demonstrate a specific relation between the archaeologyand the landscape both in terms of the character of the material record as well as informative respect. For the LRA a similar, more general subdivision can be made,into five taphonomic regions (see fig. 4.1). These are the mountainous zone, loess,sandy uplands, wetlands and river valley floors.Uniting or lumping the many different local situations into five overallcategories is of course an oversimplified rendering of the diversity of taphonomicand site-formative factors. For the LRA, however, it demonstrates the generalframework into which most sites can be fitted and addresses the main actors

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

59

50 km

Mountainous

Wetlands

Loess

rivers

50 km

Sands

working at the different sites. A short characterization of the five different regionsis given below (see also Berendsen 2005; De Mulder et al. 2003; Zagwijn 1986;1989).

4.2.1 Mountainous zone

Location:In the LRA only a limited part can be defined as a (low) mountainous area. Thisnot only forms a geological separation but also archaeologically accentuates theLRA as a culturally integrated area for studying the transition to agriculture, asthe development of the process of Neolithisation further south and southeast wasof a different character. The mountainous areas in the LRA are formed by thelower reaches and foothills of both the Ardennes and the Eifel in the south andsoutheast. These include the Belgian regions of the Condroz and the Famenneconsisting of a substratum of loam and rock as well as the rocky cliffs in thesouthern valley of the Meuse around Lige. The German Mittelgebirge (100-600m) forms another mountainous zone located near the eastern limits of the Basin(see also Louwe Kooijmans 1998a, fig. 1).Processes:Mountainous areas are subject to distinct formative and taphonomic processes.Intensive and high-energy erosion and weathering create limited areas wherearchaeological remains and features are embedded and sealed. Well-known

60

persistent traditions

Fig. 4.1 General subdivision

of the LRA study area intoformative landscapes.

examples are caves, rock shelters and small patches of mineral soil. The rockysubstrate often does not provide ideal conditions for the preservation of organicremains. Furthermore the relative inaccessibility of mountainous areas mayhamper the discovery of sites, while the specific environment may have limitedthe number of tasks executed there in prehistory.

4.2.2 Loess region

Location:The loess area is situated in the southern and southeastern part of the LRA,wedged in between the mountainous zone and the Pleistocene sandy uplands.The area is often depicted as a continuous belt stretching from east to west (seefor example Bogucki 2000, fig. 8.1), whereas in fact it represents an archipelagoof loess patches or islands (actually upland basins) (see for example Bogaard 2004,fig. 1.1). These can subsequently be broken down into locally specific varietiessuch as the limestone area in Southern Limburg or the sandy-loamy soils of theBelgian Hageland. Despite their internal variation these fertile soils were a popularsettlement location for the initial LBK farmers and subsequent Neolithic groups,thus forming the earliest region in the study area where agriculture was practised.Remarkable is the apparent absence of Late Mesolithic sites. This is often relatedto the development of the lush homogeneous Atlantic forest vegetation, whichwas probably unattractive for many species of wildlife, resulting in low overallquantities of and variety in biomass (but see Vanmontfort 2008a). On the otherhand it cannot be ruled out that their invisibility is in part due to site formationprocesses.Processes:Several processes characterize the loess region. On the positive side, features ofpast settlements have often been preserved within developed soils such as brownpodzolic soils (Parabraunerden), especially in level areas (e.g. Bakels 1978, 1920). On the other hand soil processes often led to a certain degree of dissipationof features. Moreover, the (often undulating) relief in combination with surfacerunoff in many areas has led to considerable and ongoing erosion and colluviation.This has had a significant detrimental effect on the preservation of sites (Seefor example Modderman 1976 as well as Berendsen 2005) and may lead to aconsiderable distortion in the perceived distribution of sites, since especially thoselocated on top and at the foot of slopes would have been affected. Furthermore,large stretches of the extensive loess cover within the LRA are no longer calcareousresulting in virtually no preservation of uncalcined faunal remains (e.g. Bakels1978, 72). Although a Neolithic subsistence base is assumed for most sites, thisis partly based on external evidence and presumed analogies.

4.2.3 Sandy uplands

Location:Located roughly north and west of the loess and mountainous zone and borderingon the eastern margin of the wetlands, the sandy uplands form the most substantialgeological region within the LRA. Instead of one homogeneous zone this areaactually harbours several different landscapes. In the northern and eastern limits

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

61

of the study area, the subsoil of the sandy uplands is formed by glacial depositsof moraine on top of which coversand was deposited. Some relief in the formof dunes or ridges is present. Furthermore, substantial areas have been coveredby oligotrophous peat, such as the Bourtanger swamp. In the Netherlands themoraine area is bordered by the palaeo-channels of the Vecht and the Hunze(Berendsen 2005, 74-75). Further south the sandy uplands are characterised byextensive coversand areas, low relief in the form of dunes and ridges as well asmore conspicuous ice-pushed ridges, for example near the Veluwe. Several brooksregulate the discharge (ibid.; Groenewoudt 1994, 50, note 10). Yet another typeof landscape can be found still further south and comprises the sandy uplands ofDutch Limburg and Brabant as well as the Belgian Campine area. The subsoil inlarge parts of this area is formed by ancient fluvial and marine deposits (Berendsen2005; Bubel 2002/2003), on top of which Pleistocene coversand has beendeposited. The relief consists of elaborate dunesand belts or ridges which to a largeextent determine the direction of the drainage pattern. Apart from river valleyssuch as the Meuse, the Demer or the Scheldt and their tributaries, fens formed animportant and attractive wet element in the landscape (see for instance WeeldePaardsdrank; Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil or Meeuwen in den Damp I in AppendixI). The Peel bog on the border of Dutch Limburg and Brabant forms an extensiveoligotrophic peat area.Processes:In contrast to the diversity of the sandy uplands the formative processes affectingarchaeological sites are rather similar across the area. An important feature is therelative stability of the surface preventing archaeological remains from becomingembedded (and as it were stabilized). This leads both to palimpsests of static andmobile archaeological remains as well as to exposure to various postdepositionalprocesses such as bioturbation (see Bubel 2002/2003). Furthermore featureshave often (partially) disappeared due to a combination of limited depth and soilformation (e.g. Groenewoudt 1994, 113; Rensink et al. 2006). Unfortunately, theinitial potential of this elaborate area has turned out to be very limited. It shouldfurthermore be mentioned that certain parts of the coastal barriers and low dunesalso classify as sandy uplands, at least with respect to formation processes.

4.2.4 WetlandsLocation:The main body of wetlands is located in the central and western part of theNetherlands and might be defined as the Dutch delta. It consists of a variety ofdynamic landscapes which, over time, have been subject to intensive alterationscaused by changes in sea-level and related changes in groundwater level. In generalseveral zones can be defined related to the transition from salt to fresh waterand influenced by tidal and riverine regimes (see De Mulder et al. 2003; LouweKooijmans 1985; 1993a; Vos/Kiden 2005; Zagwijn 1986; 1989; Zeiler 1997).

In the east the river clay area of the Meuse and the Rhine forms a dynamicenvironment of deposition and erosion. Within this environment river dunesand later on levees form dry elements.

62

persistent traditions

West of this, extensive wetlands with energetic riverine elements as well as

lacustrine or swamp areas with stagnant or almost stagnant water and furthercharacterised by development of eutrophic peat are located. Dry elements areformed by river dunes that have become embedded in Holocene deposits, theso-called donken.

To the west of these an area of saltmarshes can be found dissected by estuarine

creek systems which formed important east-west corridors between thehinterland and the coast

Finally, separated by an area of tidal flats, several coastal barriers with lowdunes and interspersed with wide tidal inlets form the westernmost element.The sandy coastal barriers formed ideal locations for settlement from thesecond half of the fourth millennium BC onwards.

Several other wetland areas might also be defined:

An important region is the IJsselmeer basin which was connected to the

An area that has only recently been adequately archaeologically investigated is

the Scheldt Basin. Here the former valley of the Scheldt as well as the adjacentsandy lowland have been covered by peat and (peri)marine clayey deposits.Dunes and elaborate coversand ridges form local dry elements (see Cromb2005b).

Finally isolated patches of wetlands can be included in this region. A good

Processes:Many formative processes characterize wetland environments. Of major importanceare the marine transgression and landward coastal formation. This process onlycame to a halt at the start of the Subboreal ( 4050 cal BC; Vos/Kiden 2005). Asa result, most of the coastal occupation of the Mesolithic up to the Swifterbantperiod will have been lost (see also Raemaekers 2003). The absence of these datamakes for a serious coastal hiatus in the reconstruction of settlement systemsetc. Other negative processes are more localized and mainly relate to events oferosion destroying (parts of ) sites as well as (temporary) drops in groundwaterlevel leading to weathering and disintegration of organic finds. Yet another aspectis the fact that sites in specific areas such as the freshwater peat area are oftenburied beneath many meters of sediment and therefore often beyond the reachof archaeological investigations. Of course on the other hand, because of theirwaterlogged and sealed conditions wetlands form ideal preservation contexts.Wetland sites are thus important, not only with respect to the preservation of

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

63

organic remains and data on subsistence, but also because of the preservation ofspatial information pertaining to a limited chronological timespan (see LouweKooijmans 1997; 1999).

4.2.5 River valleys

Location:Although they might be classified together with wetlands, river valleys form acategory of their own (e.g. Brown 1997). From a geographical perspective they differfrom the extensive wetland areas because they consist of one or multiple channelslocated within an, often limited, valley. Conditions may also be more dynamiccompared to many other wetland areas. From an archaeological perspective rivers,like wetlands, formed special habitats with distinct species of plant- and wildlife,raw materials etc. Furthermore they might have acted as important conduits fortransport and communication in the past. Rivers and their tributaries can befound throughout the entire LRA and have continuously formed an attractive andsought after element in any type of environment. The most important rivers in theLRA are the Rhine, the Meuse, the IJssel, the Vecht and the Scheldt. Furthermorethere are smaller streams such as the Hunze, the Dommel, the Hunte, the Geuland the Demer. Apart from terraces and valley margins the drier elements withinriver valleys are formed by covered palaeoridges, river dunes, crevasse splays andlevees.Processes:River valleys are highly dynamic environments that are the subject of their ownsubdiscipline of archaeology (Brown 1997, 219-253 and 279-303; 2003). Theirdynamic qualities make for a changing environment that hinges upon erosion anddestruction of sites by channel activity and preservation of sites by depositionof sediment. In this respect river valleys are ambiguous entities since it is oftenunknown what part of the settlement system has been destroyed, or might stillbe preserved underneath thick layers of sediment (see also Groenewoudt 1994,147; Schiffer 1987, 249-255). This has often led to a certain level of neglectfor river valleys and smaller stream valleys in the archaeological field ( see alsoRensink 2004). Nevertheless, the locations that have been preserved often formimportant interpretative counterparts to the less informative upland parts of thesettlement system. Furthermore organic remains and spatiotemporal patterningare sometimes preserved there (see for instance Lige-Place St.-Lambert, Jardinga,or Bronneger in Appendix I).

4.3 Uplands and wetlands: contrasting contexts

All the sites in the above-mentioned regions are to some extent affected by the samepostdepositional processes. Artefacts weather and deteriorate by chemical, physicalor biological agents. Sites and internal patterning are affected by bioturbationand related pedological processes. Local slope and gradient lead to processes suchas colluviation. On a regional level, events such as shifts in groundwater leveland coastal regression and transgression phases have a large impact (see Bubel2002/2003; Schiffer 1987).

64

persistent traditions

The general subdivision in physiographic regions above serves to show that

most of the processes described in the foregoing are unevenly distributed. Weare therefore dealing with environments which each harbour a characteristicset of taphonomic agents which, in combination with local conditions, areresponsible for different levels of archaeological information. This has meantthat the composition of the archaeological record in these environments is largelymutually incomparable, leading to certain problems when trying to correlate fordifferences, or similarities, in the use of sites, or for behaviour in these specificenvironments.To further approach the specifics of this problem a basic subdivision can bemade between upland sites and wetland sites. This distinction between wetlandand upland is mainly based on regional landscape and environmental aspects. Theterminology is of limited intrinsic value since both wetlands and uplands of courseharbour a wide diversity of landscapes. The uplands category furthermore hasdifferent connotations in other areas where it stands for highland or mountainousregions. Another term would be drylands, but that also brings with it certainarid connotations. The term uplands will therefore be used here as a category forthe non-wetland regions of predominantly Pleistocene origin in the LRA. Thisis a further simplification of the existing situation which is generally valid andfunctional with respect to taphonomic and site formative processes. To what extentit may also apply to a past perception will be discussed later on (see Chapters 6-9;see also Louwe Kooijmans 1997, 15, 19; Raemaekers 1999, 123). This abstractupland-wetland representation of the situation is generally applicable to many ofthe sites studied here and leads to a division with an overall positive or negativeconnotation (see table 4.1).Upland sites

Wetland sites

ARCHAEOLOGICAL ASPECTSmany

few

relatively easy to locate/excavate

hard to locate/excavate

regional perspective

limited site perspective

CHRONOLOGICAL CONTROLno clear temporal resolution

temporal resolution

continuous palimpsest

temporally limited palimpsest

low quantity/quality C dates

high quantity/quality 14C dates

14

SPATIOTEMPORAL INFORMATION

Table 4.1 Juxtaposition

of upland versus wetlandqualities for a number ofarchaeological and systemiccontexts. Note that positiveupland qualities relate tothe site in regional context.Positive wetland qualities areinformative as to the site andsite function itself.

continuous exposure to bioturbation

limited exposure to bioturbation

blurred intrasite spatial patterning

preserved intrasite spatial patterning

SUBSISTENCE AND SEASONALITY

no preservation of uncharred organic remains

preservation of organic remains

no detailed information on subsistence

detailed information on subsistence

no information on seasonality

information on seasonality

LANDSCAPE AND ENVIRONMENT

rel. unaltered regional palaeogeographical situation

changed regional palaeogeographical

situation

few sources for ecological reconstruction

many sources for ecological reconstruction

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

65

In the following, the contrast between the upland and wetland situationand its consequences for the archaeological record of the LRA in the Mesolithicand Neolithic will be further elaborated upon. The distinction between uplandsand wetlands carries with it many different implicit repercussions for both theinterpretation of sites and the degree to which they may be compared. A numberof these aspects will now be discussed in more detail.

4.3.1 Preservation of artefacts

One of the most emblematic aspects when comparing wetland and uplandarchaeology is the qualitative and quantitative difference in preservation of artefacts(e.g. Coles/Coles 1989). The anaerobic waterlogged conditions of wetlands incombination with covering layers of sediment halt further deterioration ofthe archaeological record by physical agents as well as chemical and biologicaldecomposition of organic remains (see also Schiffer 1987, 143-151).1 If wecompare the potential preservation of organic and anorganic remains in wetlandand dryland situations for the period studied here, there is a clear contrast (seefig. 4.2).The graph above was derived from survival rates of different materials plottedby Renfrew and Bahn (1996, 64). Since they use a global perspective their estimatesof survival rates are rather positive compared to the correlation as depicted abovefor the LRA. An overview of the qualitative presence and absence estimation ofthe overall distribution of organic and anorganic remains at sites listed in thecatalogue and the database demonstrates some important differences. For uplandsites very little or no information at all has been retrieved for the categories ofinvertebrates, textiles, basketry/ropes, skin/hides, shell, plants and wood. Theestimates for upland preservation of uncalcined antler and bone seem much toopositive as do those for the preservation of carbonized remains. The amount ofpottery that is preserved is also often limited at upland sites due to postdepositionalprocesses. For the LRA wetland sites, organic evidence of textiles, basketry/ropes,skin/hides etc. is significantly less than the estimate in fig. 4.2. Furthermore, thedegree to which invertebrates, bone, antler, wood and plants have been preservedis strongly dependent on the local preservation context within the excavation.In general it can be argued that since the survival rate of individual categories isdependent both on the intrinsic qualities of the objects (e.g. well-fired pottery)as well as specific local conditions (e.g. fast covering, deposition in a pit etc.), thedistribution presented above can only be a rough estimate of a survival rate and

Fig. 4.2 Estimates of

mainly serves to contrast wetland and upland information. Several categories of

mobilia are further discussed below.LithicsStone and flint objects usually stand an equal chance of survival, both at wetlandand dryland sites. Nevertheless, wetland conditions might be deemed slightly bettersince the prolonged exposure of these materials in the uplands to freeze-thaw cycles(thermal shock), anthropogenic or natural fires, trampling and more intensivesoil movement effects (chipping etc.) leads to increased deterioration (e.g. Keeley1980; Schiffer 1987, 151-158). With respect to use-wear analysis dryland lithicassemblages are less informative overall. First of all prolonged surface exposureat upland sites leads to more intensive patination, especially when compared tothe discolouration observed on finds at wetland sites (e.g. Van Gijn et al. 2006,133), which appears less destructive. Secondly mechanic alterations such astrampling and other postdepositional processes, leading to edge damage, chippingand striations, further affect the suitability for use-wear analysis. Thirdly, thematrix in which the artefacts are embedded is of little consequence with respect topostdepositional surface modifications, but, due to its abrasive effects, sand formsan exception. Van Gijn (1989, 55) states: All assemblages from a sandy matrix arereported to display at least some modifications; Upper Palaeolithic sites in Denmarkand Mesolithic sites in the Netherlands, which are in both cases usually located on sandridges, have consistently been rejected for microwear analysis. For the LRA the bestresults for microwear analysis have been achieved on LBK artefacts deposited insettlement pits in the loess. Wetland sites form good runners-up while tools fromsandy upland locations are least informative (Van Gijn 1989; Schreurs 1992; pers.comm. A. Van Gijn 2006). Unfortunately most of the upland sites studied hereare located on a sandy substratum. Currently no information is available on thequalitative and microscopic (i.e. phytolite) aspect of grinding stones for uplandand wetland conditions. Evidence from wetland and loess (LBK) context yieldedgood results, but no stones from the sandy uplands have been tested. It is possiblethat the increased percolation of water and other substances through the soil mightinfluence the potential of information available from upland sites (pers. comm. A.Van Gijn 2006). Apart from these aspects it should be mentioned that in generala remarkable amount of stone seems to be missing, preventing, for instance therefitting of stone. It is likely that this relates in part to behavioural factors. Sitesmay have been used as quarries of raw material (see Schlanger 1992). Uplandlocations appear to have experienced longer surface exposure and were thereforepotentially longer subject to these activities.PotteryIn the LRA Neolithic pottery stands a much better chance of survival underwetland conditions than in the uplands (contra Groenewoudt 1994, fig. 7a).Pottery deposited in deep (LBK) pits is also well preserved, yet not all ceramics endup in features. Ceramics in wetland conditions also suffer from postdepositionalprocesses (wet sherds soften and become more vulnerable; see Schiffer 1987, 160),but the upland pottery spectrum is severely affected by its prolonged surfaceexposure. Weathering by the elements and especially freeze-thaw cycles (cf. Skiboet al. 1989, for further discussion see Sommer 1991, 119-120) can destroy sherdswithin a very short space of time. Another important factor involved is the quality

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

67

and texture of the clay, in combination with tempering agents used, and thefiring procedure. The absence of SWB sherds in the uplands may relate to thisproblem, since the dispersal pattern of Breitkeile and certain lithics may indicateSWB presence there (see Niekus 2009; Raemaekers 1999; 2005a). Swifterbantpottery was made with a rather unstable firing technique, often in combinationwith the use of organic tempering agents and rather thick walls, preventing a wellfired result (De Roever 2004, 49, 120-122). The limited evidence for Hazendonk,Vlaardingen and Stein pottery from the upland Pleistocene soils may, apart fromsettlement location choice, also relate to the intrinsic qualities of their fabrication.It is of course difficult to assess what part of the original ceramic assemblage ofa site will be preserved. The estimate for wetland sites is naturally dependent onthe local conditions with respect to subsequent sedimentation. Usually the topof wetland sites will be exposed longer to dryland conditions, which will resultin variable loss of part of the ceramic assemblage. On the other hand, potterydirectly ending up in a wetland context such as a toss-zone in a swamp etc. willbe better preserved, also in terms of size. The dryland estimate may be aided bya comparison of upland-wetland conditions for a number of sites (see table 4.2).Although on the basis of the current evidence it is not known to what extent theseroughly contemporaneous sites are functionally comparable, they serve to showthe relative difference between both geographical conditions (on a wetland dry towet gradient, they could be listed as follows: St.-Odilinberg-Neliske, HaamstedeBrabers/Swifterbant-S21-24, Schipluiden, Swifterbant-S3/Vlaardingen).Carbonized and calcined remainsCarbonized organic remains such as charred remains of hazelnuts, charcoal andcalcined bones are often the sole representatives of faunal and botanical remainsin the uplands (see for instance the Mesolithic sites of Weelde-Paardsdrank orBergumermeer-S64B, or Neolithic sites such as Helden-Panningen-industrieterreinor Koningsbosch in Appendix I). Survival relates to the replacement of organicmatter by elemental carbon and other inorganic compounds, preventing biologicaldecay (Schiffer 1987, 164). However, upland conditions are less conducive to thepreservation of carbonized wood, i.e. charcoal, because of its extreme porous andbrittle qualities, which make it very susceptible to physical decay. It is thereforereasonable to argue that charcoal, and to a lesser extent other carbonized organicremains, stand most chance of survival when present within features. However,with the exception of hearths, these are not common at upland sites. Furthermorewhile calcined remains of bone are more resistant to chemical and biological decay,there is a dramatic overall loss of strength induced by heating (see Nicholson

Site

conditions

excavation ext. m2

date cal BC

N sherds

S3/5/6

wetland

400

4300-4000

20000

S21/22/23/24

dryland

802

4450-4100

581

Schipluiden

(partial wetland)

5500

3630-3380

29957

St.-OdilinbergNeliske

dryland

4800

Middle Neolithic

100

Vlaardingen

wetland

4591

c. 3200-2600

30506

Haamstede-Brabers

dryland

1612

c. 2900

192

68

persistent traditions

Table 4.2 Comparison

1992, 79). The prolonged intense physical stress on bone in upland conditions willtherefore have an effect on preservation; often any calcined bone that is preservedon upland sites is too fragmented for identification.Botanical remainsAs stated above, wood and other plant remains stand virtually no chance of survivalin upland conditions unless they have been carbonised or deposited within microwetland environments such as wells (see for instance the wooden objects, woodand plant remains recovered from the LBK well of Erkelenz-Kckhoven; Weiner1998a,b). In the wetlands wood and botanical remains are preserved quite well. Atmany sites (cf. Polderweg, Swifterbant-S3, Bergschenhoek, Hde I, SchoklandP14, or Schipluiden in Appendix I) an elaborate analysis of these remains withrespect to aspects such as subsistence, seasonality and past domestic use of woodand plant species is possible (e.g. Gehasse 1995; Out 2008b; 2009; Van Zeist/Palfenier-Vegter 1981). It should, however, be understood that most wetlandsites only submerge gradually. The top of these locations, either dunes, levees,donken or other elevations, have usually suffered most from dryland conditions.It may be assumed that the amount of wood used for structures, implementsand tools present on top of the dune as well as other botanical remains was onceconsiderable.Bone antler and shellDue to its tougher qualities, preservation of bone, antler and shell at uplandsites is marginally better than that of wood and plants, but remains nihil inabsence of calcination. Furthermore, different species of animals exhibit differentpreservation rates of bones and also within species some parts of the skeleton aremore resistant to decay than others (Nicholson 1992). Physical weathering ofbone is inflicted by exposure to heat (the sun), freeze-thaw cycles and water. Bonealso deteriorates through chemical and biological agents (Schiffer 1987, 182-189).The acidic qualities of large parts of the sandy uplands are responsible for the lackof bone there, as is demonstrated by the rare and limited faunal assemblages andburials. Acidic soils dissolve the mineral fraction within the bone (ibid. 183).Decalcified soils, such as large parts of the loess stretches in the LRA also result ina bad preservation of bone. Exemplary is for instance the LBK cemetery of Elsloo(Modderman 1970, 45-75). Of the 66 inhumation graves located there only 18yielded positive evidence for human burial in the form of corpse silhouettes.Apart from the above-mentioned factors influencing quantitative aspects of boneassemblages, intrinsic qualitative aspects also deteriorate. DNA for example issensitive to temperature, but wetland conditions can be truly detrimental sincethe internal DNA structure is affected by micro-organisms in the water (see alsoSmits/Louwe Kooijmans 2006). Concerning isotope analysis, analysis of C, N andO isotopes which is mainly performed on collagen, might be more successful underwetland conditions since they inhibit microbial action. Sr isotopes on the otherhand suffer from waterlogged environments, because the mineral fraction mightbe recrystallized, resulting in the loss of mineral signature (tooth enamel is oftensampled since it is more resistant to chemical alterations; See Hedges 2002 for anoverview of bone diagenesis). As with bone, virtually no Mesolithic or Neolithicdata are available for antler or shell under upland conditions. At wetland sites thetop of dunes and other elevations suffered more from these conditions.

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

69

Skin, hides, basketry, ropes and textiles

These categories of artefacts and remains have until now been non-existent atupland sites and also remain very scarce under wetland conditions for the periodstudied. This is undoubtedly in stark contrast to their abundance and importanceat the time. Some sites such as Polderweg yielded pieces of rope made of bark-fibre(Louwe Kooijmans et al. 2001a). At Vlaardingen a birch bark box was discovered(Van Beek 1990; Glasbergen et al. 1961) and at Bergschenhoek pieces of rope(Louwe Kooijmans 1985; 1987). At Schipluiden the fills of two wells yieldedsome small fragments of woven fabric as well as pieces demonstrating a twiningtechnique (Kooistra 2006). Textiles are extremely vulnerable. They either consistof plant fibres containing cellulose, or animal fibres containing keratin. Both arevulnerable to biological decay in the form of bacterial or fungal attack (Schiffer1987, 181-182). Textiles, except when deposited under special conditions, decaybefore they can be preserved in waterlogged conditions. These special conditionsmay be the same that lead to the preservation of bog bodies (i.e. skin or hide); a veryacidic environment (see Darvill 1987) and a direct and irreversible deposition.InvertebratesInvertebrates such as arthropods mainly provide ecological information as wellas anthropogenically related information on waste disposal etc. The fact thatthey receive specific attention in the publications on Hardinxveld-Polderweg(Hakbijl 2001), Hoge Vaart-A27 (Schelvis 2001) and Schipluiden (Hakbijl 2006)is emblematic for their retrieval in wetland context. In general they are presentbut often overlooked if not especially sampled for. No substantial information oninvertebrates is available for upland sites in the LRA.

4.3.2 Preservation of features

If we focus on evidence available in the form of features, differences betweenupland and wetland sites also become apparent. Apparently many features,especially when not including hearths, have been lost in upland contexts. Onetherefore encounters most features in the loess region, again mainly relating toLBK settlement context, as well as the wetlands. The Pleistocene sandy uplandsonly have a marginal count. Several reasons for this have already been touchedupon above. The most plausible (but perhaps not solely occurring) explanationis probably the severe taphonomic disturbance of upland features (e.g. BurnezLanotte et al. 1996; Groenewoudt 1994; Vanmontfort 2004) through dissipationand soil processes.2 This contrast becomes evident in table 4.3. Depicted are several(roughly) contemporaneous sites in the Late Mesolithic and Middle Neolithic ofthe LRA. Clearly visible is the contrast between wetland sites (in bold) and uplandsites with respect to features.One site that is clearly missing from the example above is Marinberg. Overan area of 14000 m2, the site yielded approximately 400 hearthpits spanning aBoreal and Atlantic occupation period of over 2500 years (see Verlinde/Newell2006; Appendix I). This relatively high number of features for an uplandcontext underscores the aspect of visibility. Apparently only qualitatively richand contrasting features stand a reasonable chance of discovery in this area.Furthermore only Bergumermeer-S64B has yielded a considerable number offeatures even without the hearths.

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persistent traditions

Table. 4.3 Comparison of

number of features counted forseveral Mesolithic and MiddleNeolithic upland and wetland(bold) sites.

Site (Mesolithic)

Area excavated (m2)

N features (hearths in brackets)

Hardinxveld-Polderweg (wet)

448

46 (6)

Weelde-Paardsdrank

337

4 (3)

Brecht-Moordenaarsven

172

(9)

Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil

134

(2)

Bergumermeer-S64B

1200

47 (19)

Dilsen-Dilserheide III

146

Meeuwen-In den Damp I

648

Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek

2115

(1)

Lommel-Maatheide

85

Lommel Vosvijvers 3

(3)

Site (Neolithic)

Area excavated (m2)

N features (hearths in brackets)

Swifterbant-S3 (wet)

c. 400

c. 650 (110)

Schipluiden (partially wet)

5500

4609 (56)

Wateringen-4 (wet)

2032

c. 133 (1)

Vlaardingen (wet)

4591

c. 2290

Meeuwen-Donderslagheide

300

St.-Odilinberg-Neliske

4800

>2?

Helden-Panningen-industrieterrein

9630

>3?

Koningsbosch

560

Linden-De Geest

2200

>1?

This could be related to the fact that the terrain was eventually covered by peat(Casparie/Bosch 1995, 235). Unfortunately none of the features or contextualinformation has been published in any detail (see Newell 1980; see also Niekus2012).It can be stated that favourable conditions for the preservation of features inwetland situations are created by the temporally limited effects of bioturbationand the fact that most former habitation layers will be beyond the reach ofmany processes of soil formation. This also applies to sites that are situated inthe upland-wetland margin (such as Schokland-P14 and Urk-E4) and that wereonly covered at a later stage. However, there is no absolute black-and-whitedistinction between wetland and upland sites, since the former have all beenexposed as well for a shorter or longer period and the subsoil of most wetlandsites (apart from for example levee locations) also consists of a body of (dune)sand. Wetland sites therefore find themselves at the end of a qualitative (andquantitative) continuum.

4.3.3 Upland Bergschenhoek

Translating the difference of potential preservation on upland sites versus wetlandsites into archaeological reality is often a difficult undertaking. It remains anestimation (see also fig. 4.2) that is dependent on a wide variety of anthropogenicand natural factors (see Schiffer 1995). Nevertheless, hypothetically positioninga site in a different context and extrapolating what information remains, maybe altered or will no longer be found may serve as a tool for realising the actual

Fig. 4.3 Schematic

representation of thedichotomy between upland andwetland sites as illustratedby the site of Bergschenhoekin its real and in hypotheticalupland conditions.

differences between data sets with which we are confronted. One of the mostemblematic examples is provided by the site of Bergschenhoek (see Appendix I).The site was situated at the edge of a lake in the vicinity of Rotterdam, north ofthe Rhine-Meuse estuary. It was a small fishing and fowling camp, centred arounda hearth. It was visited and maintained for a period of some ten years. Regularquick sedimentation made for ideal preservations conditions for organic remains;therefore the site has yielded a wealth of information on past human activityand the way in which the site was used. In contrast lithic remains are relativelyscarce. The theoretical exercise of transporting Bergschenhoek to the Pleistocenecoversand landscape several kilometres further south is therefore especially tellingwith respect to the type of information that is lost (see fig. 4.3). Apart from thelithic remains (three artefacts and a fragment of a stone axe) not much informationwould have remained (see also Orme 1981, 33-42) and the site, if discovered atall, would probably have been interpreted as an off-site activity.

4.3.4 Artefacts, features and information

What may be concluded from this brief overview regarding the preservation ofartefacts, other mobilia (faunal remains etc.) and features at upland and wetlandsites is that there is no absolute distinction between both. Wetland sites at leastpartially harbour aspects such as exposure and soil conditions that are comparableto upland sites. On the other hand, the local conditions created by sedimentationof clay and development of peat and especially the ensuing anaerobic conditionscreate an environment that is much more conducive to the preservation of organicremains. Furthermore the absence of bioturbation and other physical and chemicalweathering processes in the soil also positively affect the preservation of featuresto some extent. While we are in fact dealing with a continuum of conditions thereis a distinction between upland and wetland sites which generally involves thenotion that the overall level of information available at wetland sites will be muchhigher. This will evidently lead to more well-founded conclusions concerning theinterpretation of past activities. This difference is schematically depicted in fig.4.4.

4.3.5 Spatio-temporal patterning

Apart from the primary differences between upland sites and wetland sites withrespect to the quantitative and qualitative preservation of artefacts and features,preservation of spatio-temporal patterning forms another important factor.Binfords initial optimism in 1964 (pp. 425; see also Binford 1962) about theexistence of a fossil record of the activities of extinct society, before long gaveway to an increased realisation of the various factors at play in distorting thisrecord (e.g. Binford 1982; 2002(1983); Gifford 1978; Schiffer 1976). Varioussyn- and postdepositional factors influence deposited materials and features andas described above, qualitatively dependent on the upland or wetland contextof a site, a continuous decrease of available information takes place. Apart fromprimary aspects of preservation of (parts of ) the archaeological record, this alsorefers to the potential of inherent spatial and chronological information. The lossof spatial and chronological information might be defined as spatio-temporalcollapse (Conkey 1987).3 The degree of collapse is related to both natural andcultural factors. Cultural factors involve all anthropogenic activities taking place

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

73

'life assemblage'

general preservation, wetland and upland

recoveryinterpretation

wetlandupland

surface

uplanddeposition

postdepositional processes

wetlandexcavation

time

in the same location and resulting in an obscuring of the initial patterning. It is

important to realize that there is a certain balance between the signal and noiseand that repetition and redundancy of activities are not analogous to disturbanceof patterning (see Sommer 1991). These cultural factors will be further discussedbelow. Natural factors can be subdivided into active and passive agents. Activeagents are postdepositional processes responsible for spatio-temporal collapse (forinstance bioturbation, argiliturbation, cryoturbation, erosion; for discussion andfurther references see e.g. Bubel 2002/2003; Schiffer 1987). Passive agents referto the gradual or episodic burial of a site through sedimentation or submergence.This will by and large preserve a certain qualitative degree of the former spatialpatterning. Objects and features become sealed in context as it were. At the sametime a layer of variable thickness is created enabling a temporal isolation of findsand features.From wetland and upland contexts there is a gradual increase in the exposureto and the effects of spatio-temporal collapse. More often than not the level ofinformation available for upland sites on stable surfaces will be a fraction of thatof their wetland counterparts. In fig. 4.5 and fig. 4.6 both situations are visualizedfor single phase occupations.The figures demonstrate the differences in syn- and postdepositional processes,of both a systemic and natural background, acting upon the material remains ofoccupation. Of importance is the different degree to which the deposited sample,itself only a part of the former life assemblage, is affected by these processes,resulting in a qualitatively and quantitatively different excavation potential.The diversity in information available for wetland sites subsequently representsincreased possibilities for reconstruction of the actual dynamic past of the lifeassemblage.Several factors are of importance that affect the spatial and temporaldisintegration of information. Their impact is directly related to time and thedevelopment of a cover as can be seen in fig. 4.5 and fig. 4.6. A number of

74

persistent traditions

Fig. 4.4 Schematic

representation of thecontrast between informationfrom upland and wetlandpreservational contexts. Themore intensive exposure topostdepositional processeshas impacted the quality ofinformation available forupland sites to a greaterextent. This results inless information for thereconstruction of pastbehaviour. (Note that theinformation that is excavatedwill always be less than theinformation that might havebeen excavated).

timeFig. 4.5 Schematic representation of postdepositional and distortive processes for upland sites with a single phase of occupation.Note the decrease in information between the life assemblage, deposited assemblage and recovered assemblage in relation toanalysis and interpretation.

Fig. 4.6. Schematic representation of postdepositional processes and the effects of preservation for wetland sites with a singlephase of occupation. Note the effect of sealing on post-depositional processes. Compare ambition vs. reality to fig. 4.5.3400 - 2500 BC123

Late SwifterbantTRB-West Group

VlaardingencultureHazendonkStein groupMichelsberg?

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

75

these factors that are of special importance for understanding the site formativeprocesses in the LRA are discussed below.

4.3.5.1 Vertical displacement of artefacts

The vertical displacement of artefacts is brought about during the use phase ofa site as well as after its abandonment and after burial of the assemblage (thebiocoenose, thanatocoenose and taphocoenose stages of a site; see Schiffer 1987and Sommer 1991). In the first case the artefacts are usually at the surface anda major influence in their disturbance is trampling (for an elaborate discussionsee Schiffer 1987, 126-127). Bioturbation forms an important factor during thesecond stage.TramplingTrampling is dependent on the occurrence of remains on the ground, the intensityof the trampling and the nature of the surface (Schiffer 1987, 126). Longersurface exposure, as is the case with upland sites, leads to increased dissolutionof patterning. Trampling has two general effects. Firstly, artefacts are physicallyaffected due to pressure or contact-related stress. This leads to deformation such aschipping and abrasion of flint, breaking of bone and almost complete disintegrationor crumbling of sherds (e.g. Van Gijn 1989; Nicholson 1992; Nielsen 1991; DeRoever 2004; Schiffer 1987, 276-278; Sommer 1991). Although this destroys theprimary information value of artefacts it leads to insight on another level, namelyintrasite spatial organisation. Artefacts affected by trampling might be indicativeof activity areas, structures and fixed routes within a settlement or campsite. AtSchipluiden, for instance, a trampling zone substantiated the claim of the existenceof a continuous fence for keeping out cattle (Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2006).At Schokland-P14, Oudenaerde-Donk, and possibly at Ypenburg, tramplingis also indicative for the presence and importance of cattle at these sites (seeAppendix I). Furthermore it may be indicative of the use intensity of a site. AtSwifterbant-S3 the combination of trampling-intensive zones with small sherdsand areas where larger sherds were preserved was attributable to the presence of ahouse or hut and activities around hearths (De Roever 2004, 35-36), whereas atHardinxveld-Polderweg the relative size of the sherds enabled a a distinction to bedrawn between the intensively used lower slope of the donk and the surroundingmarsh area (Raemaekers 2001a, 114). Nevertheless, caution is warranted in theinterpretation of trampling zones, since the presence of smaller fragments of forinstance pottery does not directly signal intensively used areas. This is can also bedependent upon the differential rate at which a site has been covered by subsequentsedimentation as well as culturally specific modes of waste disposal among otherthings (see for instance De Roever 2004, 35; Sommer 1991).In combination with other processes trampling is also responsible for verticaldisplacement of artefacts in the soil. Table 4.4 indicates that vertical dispersal ofartefacts is a problem at Mesolithic and Neolithic sites, both on the uplands andin the wetlands (see also Villa 1982). Apart from trampling other factors are alsoresponsible. At Swifterbant-S3 cryoturbation might be responsible for an increasein the percentage of flint in the upper layers (De Roever 2004, 33). Of much moreimportance, however, are the effects of bioturbation on the archaeological record.

76

persistent traditions

An elaborate study of this effect, including experimental research, has been doneby S. Bubel (2002/2003).BioturbationBioturbation can basically be subdivided into floral turbation and faunalturbation. Falling under the former category, especially wind throw or tree fallfeatures have a huge impact (Bubel 2002/2003, 61-147). This is very clear atthe site of Bergumermeer-S64B for example, where wind throw features obscurealmost 50% of the horizontal and vertical information available. Furthermore theyhave often been misinterpreted as hut features or dwelling structures (see Newell1980; see also Niekus 2012). Faunal turbation can be subdivided in turbation byearthworms, arthropods and mammals (Bubel 2002/2003; Schiffer 1987, 207210). Concerning earthworms, Darwin (1883 (1881)) already noted their effecton the archaeological record. They are capable of altering the provenience andcontext of artefacts and also of blurring feature boundaries and stratification (Bubel2002/2003, 167). The effects of arthropods are less known, but comparable. Theyprefer sandy soils (ibid. 188). Arthropods were partly responsible for destroyingthe spatio-temporal integrity of the Weelde-Paardsdrank site (Huyge/Vermeersch1982, 132, 137). Depending on their size and number, burrowing mammalsalso disturb sites considerably. Often their impact is still visible in the form ofso-called krotovinas (an animal burrow filled with organic or mineral materialfrom another soil horizon), which also exist for earthworms and arthropods(Bubel 2002/2003, 229). Based upon experimental research simulating thesekrotovinas, Bubel concluded that size-sorting takes place. Overall the greater thesize and weight of artefacts the deeper they were buried (ibid. 304). This wassubsequently tested at, amongst others, the sites of Meeuwen-In den Damp Iand Brecht-Moordenaarsven 2. Both, though Brecht to a lesser extent, confirmedthe hypotheses generated by the experiments (ibid. 334-363, 438). Contrastingly,however, at other sites a reversed pattern seems to exist, for example at MerseloHaag or Posterholt-HVR 165. In the latter case a tree fall feature had preservedthe original find composition. This contrasted with the surrounding area wheresmaller pieces were embedded deeper in the subsoil and larger pieces remained onor at the surface and were displaced by ploughing (see Verhart 2002, see also Bubel2002/2003, 27-32; Sommer 1991, 110). This pattern is generally explained byreferring to the greater amount of energy involved in mass displacement of largerelements downwards (size sorting effect). It is thus important to realize that bothsituations might exist on the basis of the criteria mentioned above in combinationwith postdepositional processes (it is for instance likely that size sorting is less ofa factor in displacement by tree falls or burrowing mammals).Differential impactIt is important to note that especially sites with sandy sediments experience a highdegree of vertical displacement (see also Bubel 2002/2003; Vermeersch 1999;Vermeersch/Bubel 1997). This means that especially the upland dataset studiedhere is seriously affected. Several reasons may be mentioned. First of all the oftenloose composition of sandy sediments is of a much more permeable nature thanfor instance loess or clay. Objects will be transported up and down with greaterease. Secondly, as was mentioned above, certain types of animals prefer sandy soilsand their burrowing holes are probably less stable in these sediments. Of majorimportance however is the fact that Pleistocene sandy upland sites are exposedlower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

77

Site

displacement

material

References

Brecht-Moordenaarsven 2 (u)

15-35 cm

flint

Bubel 2002/2003; Vermeersch

et al. 1992

Dilsen-Dilserheide III (u)

60 cm

flint/pottery

Luypaert et al. 1993

Hardinxveld-De Bruin (w)

pottery

Raemaekers 2001b

Meeuwen-In den Damp I (u)

20 cm

flint

Bubel 2002/2003

Melsele-Hof ten Damme (w)

artefacts

Van Roeyen et al. 1992

Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil (u)

15 cm

flint

Vermeersch et al. 1974

Schokland-P14 (u/w)

14

Swifterbant-S3 (w)

40 cm

pottery

De Roever 2004

Weelde-Paardsdrank (u)

30-40 cm

flint

Huyge/Vermeersch 1982

C sample

Lanting/Van der Plicht

1999/2000

to more prolonged and intensive bioturbation due to the absence of a preserving

cover and waterlogged conditions. Bioturbation thus often continues for millenniawhereas at wetland sites it is largely limited due to sedimentation, submergenceor peat growth. Finally, upland sites lack the means to control or correlate for theeffects of vertical dispersal. Different occupation periods are mixed, whereas atwetland sites intrusive elements and dispersal of related artefacts may be singledout and attributed to the correct layers (see for example Raemaekers 2001b, 122123; De Roever 2004, 37-38).

4.3.5.2 Horizontal displacement of artefacts

The counterpart of vertical displacement is horizontal displacement and manyof the above-mentioned factors also lead to horizontal displacement of artefacts.Overall, the effects of bioturbation on horizontal movement might in most casesbe considered to have less impact (see Bubel 2002/2003, 286, see also the effectsof bioturbation on the site of Melsele-Hof ten Damme, Fechner/Langhor 1993;Van Roeyen et al. 1992). On the other hand, other factors might have seriouslyinfluenced the horizontal integrity of a site. Especially the proximity of runningwater in the form of rivers and streams can be influential (e.g. Jardinga and LigePlace St.-Lambert in Appendix I). Trampling (and kicking etc.) also forms aserious factor. Especially on stable dry surfaces, continuous or repeated use ofthe same location can lead to considerable horizontal displacement of artefacts.At the Swifterbant-S3 site sherds of one and the same pot were found within a 20m radius, although the majority was found within a couple of meters radius (DeRoever 2004, 37-39). At Weelde-Paardsdrank trampling might have been partlyresponsible for the distribution of artefacts over up to 25 m (cf. Huyge/Vermeersch1982, 149). However, the distribution, especially of flint, might also relate toconscious activities like particular areas of waste disposal, curation of previouslyabandoned artefacts and scavenging of sites (see Schlanger 1992). Finally, variousslope processes such as erosion and colluviation have a major impact on originalhorizontal patterning. These will be discussed below. As with vertical dispersionthe effects of horizontal dispersion are also directly related to the use-intensityof a site in combination with the present conditions of sealing. From this it canbe concluded that under conditions of equal site use intensity, the horizontal

78

persistent traditions

Table 4.4. Several examples

of Mesolithic and Neolithicupland (u) and wetland (w)sites in the LRA that yieldedinformation on verticaldispersal.

displacement of artefacts at upland sites will be more intense. Furthermore

their shallow position near the surface makes them vulnerable to the effects of(deep)ploughing and other postdepositional activities.

4.3.5.3 Erosion, colluviation, slope effects and decapitated sites

Almost all sites figuring in Appendix I and probably most of the sites known forthe period under investigation are located upon an of elevation of some sort andorigin (see table 4.5; see also Peeters et al. 2002, 105).Sites that are not located on a distinct elevation or in a valley floor location,such as Jardinga, Bergschenhoek and Bronneger, may all have had a ratherspecific site function. From this it may be concluded that most residential ordomestic settlement locations known from this period to some extent sufferfrom postdepositional effects related to slope processes. Together with the aforementioned trampling these processes distinctly transport or displace artefacts.This contrasts with most of the effects of bioturbation which mainly result in asmearing and blurring of intra-site patterns. Three important slope processes canbe mentioned: downhill displacement, erosion and colluviation. The effects of allthree naturally increase with the gradient of the slope. Hardinxveld-Polderwegand the Hazendonk for instance have a gradient of approximately 20%, while theSchipluiden dune is low and only has a low gradient of a few degrees.A certain degree of downhill displacement of artefacts is very likely, especiallywhen the elevation is still in use. Potentially the larger and heavier artefacts maycluster lower on the slope, since they are less easily embedded. The effects ofthis might, however, be limited as was demonstrated by the distribution of coresat Hardinxveld-De Bruin (Van Gijn et al. 2001c, 160). Of considerably greaterimpact are the processes of erosion and colluviation. In combination with theslope gradient, trampling, soil creep and slope wash are important factors withinthese processes, as well as the degree to which past behaviour is influenced bythe slope (distribution patterns of activity areas, waste disposal areas, tracks etc.).Archaeological remains as well as the surrounding matrix are mainly transporteddown the slope. At Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin colluvial layers wererevealed in thin sections and, partially, through the sloping orientation oflongitudinal fragments of bone and charcoal (see Louwe Kooijmans/Mol 2001;Mol/Louwe Kooijmans 2001). At these sites this led to a complex alternationof colluvial layers within the surrounding peat matrix. A colluvial zone alsowas identified at the foot of the much flatter and lower dune of Schipluiden,while erosion caused distinct gaps in the distribution patterns (Mol et al. 2006;Wansleeben/Louwe Kooijmans 2006, 75).Location

Table 4.5 Non-exhaustive

but exemplary distributionof site locations scored in thecatalogue (Appendix I).

N sites

coversand ridges or dunes

20

levees

river dunes or donken

coastal dunes or barriers

low elevations

upper terrace or valley margin

boulder clay outcrop

Other/valley floor

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

79

Colluviation and associated processes

Two further effects should be mentioned that result from erosion, colluviationand associated processes. An important phenomenon at a number of wetland sitesis the destruction or absence of spatial and chronological information derivingfrom the top of sites. Due to the lack of a cover in combination with intensiveuse and upland conservation conditions, objects as well as features become partof a palimpsest, but might also be partially or entirely absent due to continuousbioturbation, trampling and large-scale erosion (see for example the sectiondrawings of the dune of Schipluiden, Mol et al. 2006, fig. 2.7). This leads to moreor less decapitated sites which especially lack information concerning activitiesand structures located on the top, which is often assumed to be the core habitationor residential area (see also fig. 4.7). Examples of decapitated sites are Brandwijk,Hardinxveld-Polderweg, Hardinxveld-De Bruin, the Hazendonk, Hoge Vaart,Urk-E4 and Swifterbant-S21-24. At S21-24 the formation of the Almere lake inhistorical times caused the erosion of the covering peat as well as of the tops ofthe river dunes, resulting in decapitated profiles. At S21-24 this resulted in anerosion of 45 cm of the top of the dune (Ente 1976; De Roever 1976). At S23erosion caused a virtual absence of finds from the top of the dune and at S21 someof the hearthpits might have been obscured by erosion (De Roever 1976; 2004,27). Erosion would also have led to displacement of artefacts. At Schipluiden partof the feature level on the top was preserved, yet the entire occupation layer andinternal spatial patterning had disappeared through erosion (Wansleeben/LouweKooijmans 2006). The decapitated profiles are partially down to the dry aspectsand conditions of the tops of wetland sites and result in a selective preservationin zones. This represents a second effect in relation to erosion. Trampling andactivities on the slope of a site will, in combination with water (rain), have led tocolluvial processes. The main problem of these processes is the mixing of displaced(secondary) material from the slope with primary deposited remains at the footof the elevation. Apart from spatial contamination of the existing patterning thisalso leads to chronological contamination (see fig. 4.7). Dependent on the rate ofsedimentation or cover of the foot of the elevation, more or less admixture of olderremains from the slope will take place.

trampling; slope processes

trampling; slope processes

colluviationerosion

wet; discard + activities

sedimentationstratification

It may be concluded that erosion, colluviation and slope effects affect every sitelocated on a slope. Apart from the gradient of the slope, a sandy substrate, as is thecase for most upland sites and the donken, is probably most vulnerable due to itsloose internal structure. Furthermore, while the impact and scale of these effectsmight to some extent be similar for both upland and wetland sites, the means toidentify and control them stratigraphically are usually absent at upland sites.

4.3.6 Persistent places and consistent use

Another aspect that should be discussed here is of a cultural nature and involvesthe regular or interspersed re-use of the same location for similar or differentactivities (see Binford 1982). This involves the resolution of redundancy and thevisibility of patterns (see Sommer 1991, 61). Except for sites such as Bronnegerand perhaps Gassel, most sites figuring in Appendix I show evidence of repeatedoccupation or use. This ranges from several years, as is the case for Bergschenhoek,to several millennia as was documented at Marinberg. If similar activities werecarried out, one could assume that the signal of these activities would be stable andreadable. At Polderweg the patterning of and gradient in activities was to a greatextent repeated with each visit (see Louwe Kooijmans 2003). At the sedentarysite of Schipluiden, there is a distinct degree of spatial continuity in site layoutand site structure and consistency in use. The location of the general habitationarea as well as the site perimeter, marked by a fence, an area with waterpitsand several dump and activity areas remains constant over time (see Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2006; Mol et al. 2006; Wansleeben/Louwe Kooijmans 2006).The recognition of these patterns was of course strongly dependent on wetlandconditions and stratigraphic control, yet other factors are also of importance.These relate to similar cultural choices with respect to the spatial structuring ofthe site, or returning to the same places.Apart from the intra-site consistency in use of a location, the development ofpersistent places over time may have numerous reasons, ranging from strategicallypositioned locations for hunting or seasonal activities and or investment in (fixed)facilities to the presence of (re-)useable material or the social attachment to aplace (Barton et al. 1995; Schlanger 1992). The frequent return to sites overtime of course also affects archaeological patterning and information at theselocations, especially when immediate cover is absent. From a semi-Braudelian(1966) perspective three different time ranges may be defined that help explainthe cultural messiness of site patterning. These are briefly discussed below.

4.3.6.1 Short duration direct change

In this case activities performed at sites during one period of use or occupationhave no fixed location. They shift from day to day, hour to hour, or person toperson. Cultural debris, often in the form of waste, is left at the place of use ororigin (e.g. knapping debris). Except for hearths, other fixed structures and builtenvironment of some size are mostly absent (these often function as structuringand directing elements for fixed site patterning, see Binford 1987a). Schiffer(1972) argued that these situations exist at sites that are occupied for a briefperiod of time by a limited number of people. He proposed that with increasingsite population (or perhaps site size) and increasing intensity of occupation, therewill be a decreasing correspondence between the use and discard locations for

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all elements used in activities and discarded at a site. Therefore these short-termlocations will consist mainly of primary refuse, clustering in discrete or overlappinglocations (Schiffer 1972, 162; see also Rafferty 1985). Although this observationis a case in point it also calls for a certain reservation. Ethnographic analysis (e.g.Kelly 1992; 1995; Sommer 1991) has indicated that the cultural variability withrespect to sites and site structuring is very large. Laws as defined by Schiffermight form an observable general trend, but there are exceptions to the rule. Anexample at a different scale for instance is the mobile nature of cedar plank housesbuilt by Northwest Coast people that could be moved seasonally (e.g. Ames 2006;Kelly 1992). Another example is formed by the fact that sites might be structuredaccording to their anticipated use, which need not be similar to the actual use of asite (Kent/Vierich 1989, 124). In general it may, however, be concluded that shortrepetitive stays or uses of a location will often be characterized by a (somewhat)indiscriminate use of space. And therefore by less distinct patterning. On theother hand, if the activities are homogeneous (not unlikely in a hunting camp),the resulting waste is limited and spatial overlap is not conditioned by the layoutof the location (i.e. there is enough space), then the archaeological patterningmight be relatively clear and informative. Overall the above-mentioned type ofsite patterning is characteristic for short-term hunting or maintenance camps,overnight stays etc., but this is no definitive classification.

4.3.6.2 Medium duration mobility and the seasonal round

Of a different magnitude is the aspect of mobility and the seasonal round. Withinthe time period under investigation we are largely dealing with non-sedentaryhunter-gatherers and early farmers, which is why the existence of settlementsystems, seasonal rounds and site diversification adds another dimension to theproblem. Binford, after defining between systems of logistical and residentialmobility in his famous Willow smoke and dogtails article (1980), came to thesame conclusion in his article The archaeology of place (Binford 1982). In it,he acknowledged that the same places have different economic potential relativeto the sequence of base camp moves (1982, 12). This implies that what is a basecamp at one moment in one season, might in the following season function as ahunting camp, an observation stand, a logistical camp etc. Archaeologically thisimplies that the locations preferred for residential camps can be expected to yield amost complex mix of archaeological remains since they were commonly also utilizedlogistically when the residential camps were elsewhere (1982, 15). Re-using thesame location for different activities with a different material signature will blurthe original patterning that existed. To this one might add further complicatingfactors such as irregular use or hiatuses in use of the same location, re-use orscavenging of materials present at the site, shifts in the number of users, dueto for example group fissioning, or cyclical patterns with a longer than annualcycle (long-term mobility; e.g. Schlanger 1992, 99). In correlation with Schiffersintensity argument Binford argues that the overall effect of reduced residentialmobility among logistically organized hunters and gatherers, from the standpoint ofpatterning, would be an archaeological record characterized by better defined typesof sites giving the appearance of greater specialization in functions (1982, 21).What this means is that with an increased level of sedentariness the subsequentsedimentation of functions in the landscape could potentially lead to increased

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archaeological visibility. This is why it is important to address the issue of the

degree of permanency (cf. Louwe Kooijmans 1993a, 90-92, see also Rafferty1995) when studying a site in the period under consideration. The seasonalityaspects of the site of Hardinxveld-De Bruin give a good example of the problemdefined above. There are faunal and botanical indicators for a presence in everyseason, yet on the other hand the limited dimensions of the drowning donk wouldappear to cast doubts on a permanent year-round occupation. The most likelyexplanation seems a continuation of the winter basecamp function of Polderwegin combination with a logistical function at other times throughout the year(Louwe Kooijmans 2001b, 513-514). It should be realised, however, that even at awetland site with qualitatively good preservation, one faces a complex palimpsestof remains of different activities.

4.3.6.3 Long duration persistent places

In a long-term perspective the comprehension of archaeological patterning ishampered by cultural and natural factors and patterning on a larger time-scale.This involves the re-use of specific site locales over extended periods of time, oftenwith hiatuses in occupation lasting anywhere from several centuries to millennia.Louwe Kooijmans referred to this as the duration of occupation at a certainlocation, which can be measured in years and irrespective of the permanency-factor,can be seen as reflecting the continuity and especially the stability of the community(1993a, 90). However, realising the time depth recorded for some sites such as forexample Marinberg, Bergumermeer-S64B or Hoge Vaart-A27, in combinationwith the hiatuses in occupation, suggests that apart from those sites that remainedof importance over many generations and centuries, non-related communities alsomade use of the same locations over long time-spans. This means that particularsite qualities, such as desirable geographical and ecological circumstances, ratherthan stability and continuity in community site use will have been an importantfactor. On the other hand long-term memory of places and their existence onmental maps, even in the face of long hiatuses cannot be ruled out (Feld/Basso1996; Jones 2007; Van de Noort/OSullivan 2006). In either case we are dealingwith sites that were the object of a long-term focus of one or several communities.A useful approach for studying these sites was presented by Schlanger (1992).In a study of Anasazi settlement patterns near the Dolores river in Colorado,Schlanger argues for a more flexible use of concepts such as site and find byreplacing them with the concept of persistent place. Persistent places are locationsthat were repeatedly used during the long-term occupation of a region (Schlanger1992, 92). Analogous to Binfords analysis (1982) the locations might also changefunction during re-occupation. A site with a residential focus may for examplechange into a location with a logistical focus, or into a special activity site. Whatis different about Schlangers approach, however, is that shifts in site function arenot related to a seasonal round, but to long-term changes in settlement pattern,for example in response to climatic and environmental changes (ibid. 93-95).The concept of persistent places will return later on (Chapters 5 and 8; see alsoAmkreutz 2013a,b). It is, however, evident that many such places existed in theLRA. A good example is Marinberg (see also Appendix I). Within a set of 4114C dates spanning a period between roughly 7600 and 5000 cal BC, Newelland Verlinde were able to distinguish four main occupation phases separated by

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three substantial hiatuses. On statistical grounds they defined another eight shorthiatuses, resulting in twelve chronologically and spatially separate occupationphases (Verlinde/Newell 2005). Another example is the Hazendonk site. Overa period of more than 1500 years it witnessed occupation by Swifterbant,Hazendonk and Vlaardingen communities. There are even traces dating to theLate Mesolithic. In between some of the occupation periods there were (extended)hiatuses (see Appendix I; Louwe Kooijmans 1993a). Other sites that may becharacterized as persistent places are, for example, Schokland-P14, SwifterbantS21-24, both Hardinxveld sites, and Brandwijk.Persistent places and long-term patterning form a last cultural factor influencingspatio-temporal resolution. While the former two time-frames involved limitedspatial distinction in activities or different activities over the year, distortion atthis level involves long-term shifts in the use of locations by different groups. Dueto changes in natural or other circumstances this means that the type of activitiesat a location may diverge considerably from previous occupation or use phases.It is meanwhile evident that the degree to which these different use phases of asite may be distinguished is dependent on the degree to which there may havebeen a sedimentation episode or cover. It is evident that under upland conditionsmaterial from chronologically widely distinct use episodes of a sites may end upin the same context. Typical difficulties in interpretation may arise from this.Examples are the intrusion of pottery in a Mesolithic hearthpit at Swifterbant-S23(see Appendix I; Price 1981; De Roever 2004, 27) or the presence of a MK vesselat a Mesolithic site in Dilsen (Amkreutz et al. 2010).

4.3.6.4 Dealing with scales of patterning and disturbance

The three time perspectives described above, each have a profound impact onsites, intra-site patterning and the information we may extract from it. Matters arecomplicated due to the fact that all three scales operate simultaneously, makingit difficult to define the proper agents responsible for the patterning (or lack ofit) that is discovered. It may be evident from the previous discussion that theimpact of repeated use of sites within these different scales differs considerably inrelation to site formative processes taking place (or the absence thereof ). Again thedifference between upland and wetland sites is evident. It is especially the absenceof a potential cover or sedimentation at many upland sites, in combination withsurface stability and continuous bioturbation and slope processes, that inhibitsthe distinguishing of different episodes of use over time. This is depicted in fig.4.8 and fig. 4.9.In fig. 4.8 two phases of occupation are depicted with an intermediate hiatus.During the period of occupation (indicated by the width of the bar), materialaccumulates (indicated by the height of the bar) and becomes deposited on andin the subsoil. From this moment on, various syn- and postdepositional processesstart working (trampling, gnawing, re-use, scavenging, loss etc.). The grey shadedarea is the eventual accumulation of debris and its internal structuring that formthe material reflection of the entire period of occupation. This will likely, at leastto some extent and depending on the spatial separation and period of use of thesite, be a palimpsest. After abandonment of the site postdepositional processesfurther affect the deposited remains and continue to destroy intrasite patterning.During this process a second occupation takes place, this time less extensive and

Fig. 4.8 Schematic representation of syn- and postdepositional processes and the effects of multi-period occupation on uplandsites. Note that the superposition of the occupational remains of different non-related periods of site-use, in combination with theabsence of a cover contributes significantly to the palimpsest character of the site.

systemic contextoccupation phase 3

occupation phase 2

occupation phase 1

multiple phase occupation, wetland

recoveryeoveragasing c

storage/publication

incre

quantity of debris deposited

timeFig. 4.9 Schematic representation of syn- and postdepositional processes and the effects of multi-period occupation on wetlandsites. The frequent cover of a site during or after periods of site-use leads to the formation of stratification and subsequentlyspatio-temporally separated evidence of occupation.

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with a more limited material impact. The material record on and at the surfaceis enriched by this second phase of occupation which might have a very differentcharacter and output compared to the first. The grey shaded area again indicatesthe eventual accumulation of artefacts and features. It is likely that the previouslyexisting signal of the first occupation will be further obscured by the second. Againsyn- and postdepositional processes act upon the archaeological record. A furthercomplicating factor is depicted in the horizontal bar. The off-site veil is a conceptcoined by Roebroeks et al. (1992) to describe and interpret a Middle Palaeolithiclow-density scatter, contrasting with high-density patches (see also De Loecker2006). In the model above, the presence of an off-site veil serves to indicate thatthe sites we define are also part of a landscape of activities. The reason we identifythese locations as sites is the concentration of relics and features at these places.This indicates that part of the material record at the site may also be part of theoverall scatter or veil instead of belonging to the patch or concentration defined(see also Roebroeks et al.1992, 11-13). The veil might consist of a variety of smallscale activities that, amongst others, took place at that location. These activitiesmight form part of one of the cycles or time perspectives described above. Due tothe stability of the landscape the chronological and spatial separation of activitiesrelated to either the occupation of the site, or to the veil, is lost. Eventually thesite might become buried, but due to its upland conditions burial will often notbe very deep, nor will postdepositional processes cease to distort what is left untilexcavation. Examples of sites that on the whole fit this schematic representationare, for example, Bergumermeer-S64B, Brecht-Moordenaarsven 2, Koningsbosch,Merselo-Haag and St.-Odilinberg-Neliske (see Appendix I for details).In contrast fig. 4.9 depicts a wetland situation with three phases of occupation,differing in length and material output. No elaborate hiatuses are observable betweenthe phases of occupation, but these could very well be imagined. After depositionthe material record of each phase was again subjected to syn- and postdepositionalprocesses. The main difference with the upland situation, however, apart from thepotential waterlogged conservation of organic remains, is the development of acover. Due to the non-stable character of this cover each occupation period maywitness individual sealing, preserving intrasite patterning and providing a degreeof chrono-stratigraphic control during excavation. Intermixing of anachronisticsite- (or veil-) related activities and their material debris will be more limited anda better grasp on intrasite structuring within a syn- and diachronic perspectiveis possible. Sites that match this profile (although with different length andfrequency of occupation) are, for example, Hardinxveld-Polderweg, HardinxveldDe Bruin, Bergschenhoek, Brandwijk, Hazendonk, and Schipluiden (see AppendixI). As was noted earlier, chronological separation of different use phases may takeplace at these wetland sites, but often does not include the entire site. Oftenthe top is characterized by long-term upland conditions while sedimentation andsubmergence (and the resulting spatio-temporal control) feature on the slopes.

4.3.7 A continuum of conditions

Of course the distinction sketched above for upland and wetland sites with respectto occupation phases and syn- and postdepositional processes is far from absolute.The models presented should rather be perceived as opposite ends of a gradualsliding scale very much dependent on the specific geomorphological specifics of

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the site location, the intensity with which the location is used and the nature as wellas the moment of the creation of a cover through sedimentation or submergence.The site of Hde I provides a good example. Located in the marshlands on thesouthern shore of Lake Dmmer, the site is ideally situated for good preservation.Nevertheless a considerable difference exists in the preservation between differentlayers. The lower find horizon (Unteren Schicht) is much better preserved. Especiallytowards the edges of the settlement this layer yielded spectacular remains in theform of the remnants of six potential huts, constructed of posts and beams. Partsof walls, the floor and other structures were also documented and most findsbelonged to the earlier pre-TRB phases of occupation (Kampffmeyer 1991; Stapel1991). This excellent preservation is down to the fact that during this phase the sitewas partially or completely surrounded by water because of the active channels ofthe Hunte river. As the documented structures bordered on the channel delimitingthe site to the northeast, frequent flooding must have taken place (Kampffmeyer1991, 66-71). Eventually alder carr or peat deposits (Bruchtorf) covered parts ofthe site. Contrastingly, the upper layer (Oberen Schicht) consisted of compactedpeat harbouring charcoal, wood and other finds (Deichmller 1965; 1969). Thislayer contained finds from all periods, indicating that it had been subject to serioustrampling, compression and soil formation (see Kampffmeyer 1991, 74). Littlespatial information was available for the upper layer and not many posts werefound (see also Appendix I). It is most likely that the later phases of Hde I wereexposed for extended periods of time resulting in accumulation and compressionof archaeological remains. It may be concluded that rather extreme differences canexist within the preservation of remains at the same location that develop over thespan of several centuries or perhaps even decades. Another example is providedby the site of Schokland-P14. There, repeated sedimentation on the lower slopeshas led to an internal stratigraphy subdivided into five phases (A to E; see TenAnscher 2012; Gehasse 1995, 27). The first of these, however, already spans aperiod of no less than eight centuries. This indicates that the presence of coveringsediments in a wetland location is no guarantee for the preservation of remains, orfor spatio-temporal information. It should be noted then that although a generalupland-wetland distinction may be made, favouring the latter in issues of organicpreservation as well as spatio-temporal information and chrono-stratigraphiccontrol, this is an artificial distinction. All sites in fact are positioned along acontinuum and their information potential is shaped by locally variable naturaland systemic factors that influence preservation and level of information. For theperiod and area studied it is, however, the wetland side of this spectrum that hasyielded most information.

4.4 Methodological perspectives

The regional differences sketched above in organic and spatio-temporal preservationand the differences in opportunities these offer with respect to qualitativeinformation also have repercussions for the way in which sites have been and areexcavated. In the following, several characteristics of these methodological aspectswill be presented. First, a number of theoretical considerations affecting bothnatural and cultural factors influencing the composition of the archaeologicalrecord will be discussed. Subsequently a brief and general overview of the main

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research tradition in the LRA with respect to Mesolithic and Neolithic researchwill be sketched. This is followed by a number of methodological contrasts andapproaches in regional and period-specific research.

4.4.1 Theory for patterning

For interpreting the patterns we deal with at sites in different environments agood understanding of the various factors that influence our regional datasets is abasic requirement. An overview of these processes with respect to site formationand taphonomy was given in the previous paragraphs. This information formspart of a set of filters that stands between our interpretation, which is based onwhat we excavate and, what Binford (1964, 425) has termed, the fossil record ofthe actual operation of an extinct society. Especially in the positivistic era of NewArchaeology, it was argued that certain heuristic methods would enable a betterunderstanding of the relationship between the static archaeological record and pastdynamic systems (e.g. Binford 1977; 1981a,b). An important example of this setof middle range theories (see Rowley-Conwy 2004) was for instance the body oftheory dealing with the factors surrounding the discard or deposition of artefactsand their subsequent archaeological recovery (Gifford 1978; Ratjeh 1974; Schiffer1972; 1987; 1995). Schiffers (1972, 14-15; 1995, 28-41) distinction betweenarchaeological and systemic contexts and the natural and cultural transforms(C-transforms and N-transforms) operating between them remains a valuableapproach for defining various processes affecting assemblage formation. Anotheruseful perspective is offered by a number of studies distinguishing the variousstages in processes acting upon the archaeological assemblages (e.g. Clarke 1973;Eggers 1959). One of the most comprehensive of these originates in palaeontologyand distinguishes between four different stages of archaeological assemblagesand the intervening processes (see Schiffer 1995; Sommer 1991. Activities andartefacts work or move between these assemblages, which range from a biocoenose(life community or assemblage), through a thanatocoenose (death assemblage) anda taphocoenose (burial assemblage) to an oryktocoenose (excavation assemblage).Defining how various processes act between and within these stages is veryhelpful when interpreting the way in which data has been patterned. A furthercontribution that is valuable in this respect is Binfords (1980; 1982) emblematicdemonstration of the way in which sites develop into palimpsests by repeated(seasonal) site use, often with a different purpose.Information, interpretation and redundancyThis body of theory helps to explain how archaeological information yieldsed tous over time. In this respect it informs us which crucial conditions have to be metfor archaeological visibility. According to Gifford (1978, 98) there are three:

Human activities have material consequences

These material consequences must be potentially preservable

Natural processes must act in such a manner as to preserve them

Sommer (1991, 60) identified a fourth:

Anthropogenic artefacts and features must be recognizable as such

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These points are basic knowledge yet they are at the core of archaeological discourse.In line with them the archaeological procedure as a whole can best be classified asan internal paradox. Past dynamic communities generate a static pattern of culturaldebris and potential information. This static pattern is then, partially preservedand varyingly distorted, transferred to the present day where it is documented byarchaeologists.4 Following this, what was recorded of the static pattern is used toarrive at statements concerning these past dynamic communities, aided by externalinformation and experience. Within this classification two general processes are atwork. On the one hand there is a decrease in the transfer of information; a signal,hampered by noise moving upward through the various filters. On the other handa process of increasing interpretation moves in the opposite direction. In order toarrive at balanced statements on the dynamic aspects of past communities, we aredependent on both our capability to identify and compensate for the interveningprocesses of site formation as well as our willingness to keep an open mind withrespect to the interpretation of past behaviour (see fig. 4.10).A final factor of importance in interpreting current patterning is the behaviourof past communities. Crucial in this respect is the concept of redundancy,which implies the level of repetition generating a pattern. There is a delicatebalance between repetition and recognition. The signal of a hunting camp (e.g.Bergschenhoek, see Appendix I) may go unnoticed if the material correlates ofthe activities taking place there are too limited. Repetition of these (hunting andfishing) activities and accumulation of the associated material debris may, however,enable archaeologists to distinguish the signal from the noise (other activities ortaphonomic processes). On the other hand, the ongoing repetition of signals andtheir material repercussions in the same location will eventually again distort theinformation available and turn into noise once more. This is, in fact, palimpsestformation (see fig. 4.11; Bailey 2007). Sommer (1991, 61) points out that signaland noise are not absolute concepts. Due to repetition and other activities, thesignal of a specific intrasite activity might turn into noise, while this same noise

inter pretatiodynamiccommunity

cultural andnon-culturalpostdepositionalprocesses

Fig. 4.10 Schematic

representation of a numberof factors and processesinfluencing patterning,information and analysisduring the various stagesof site formation anddevelopment of archaeologicalinformation.

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pattern recognition

Visibility

noisesignal

Time/Redundancy

again forms a signal on a higher level. For example retouch activities of pointsmight get lost within the overall knapping debris, which in turn is indicative ofan activity area on the level of the site. Realisation of the scale and resolution ofthe data available and adjusting the scope of the questions we ask and the typeof research conducted is therefore crucial in understanding past patterning. Italso forms the basis for explaining the (historical) differences in regional researchtraditions.Reflections on Mesolithic and Neolithic perspectivesApart from the theoretical background to the formation of regional informationthat may be sketched for the LRA, a further point of attention for understandingresearch approaches is formed by the specific connotations of the chronologicaldivision into a Mesolithic and Neolithic period.It should be noted that archaeological discourse has long since moved onfrom any earlier stereotypical idea of opposing lifeways of hunter-gatherers andfarmers (e.g. Childe 1952; see also Pluciennik 1998, 63). Based on ethnographicas well as archaeological studies the awareness arose of variation and mixingbetween these different categories (see Clark 1952; Lee/DeVore 1968; Zvelebil1989). Nevertheless, as argued earlier (see Chapter 3) the concepts of Mesolithicand Neolithic are retained as heuristic categories that serve for studying pastcommunities. This also means that they may, on a subliminal level, influencearchaeological excavation and interpretation (Strassburg 2003, 542-544), simplybecause many of our methodological tools and approaches are derived from one orthe other tradition of research and analytical thinking. In dealing with sites thatmay be positioned within a process of Neolithisation, harbouring aspects of bothlifeways, it is important to be aware of this.

4.4.2 Research traditions in investigating Mesolithic and Neolithic

sitesSituated between the Eastern European and French continental traditions focusingon data and classification and the Anglo-American theory-driven approach,archaeology in the LRA has long found itself in an intermediate position. The

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Fig. 4.11 Schematic

representation of redundancy,signal, noise and patternrecognition. Note thatrepetition and redundancymay both promote as wellas distort the visibility of asignal.

focus was mainly on data and the paradigmatic shifts experienced elsewhere wereonly pragmatically incorporated. For the second half of the 20th century, a numberof influences may be mentioned briefly. It should be noted, however, that this isnot an exhaustive analysis of research traditions and influences.A first tradition is characterized by the functionalist and ecological approach,mainly originating from the post-war BAI (currently GIA) in Groningen(Waterbolk 2003), which was also implemented at other Dutch institutes inAmsterdam and Leiden. This approach might be characterised as ecologicalbecause of the relative importance of zoological, botanical and palynologicalstudies. It has had an important influence on Meso- and Neolithic research inthe study-area (e.g. Bakels 1978; Clason 1967; Groenman-van Wateringe/Jansma1969; Waterbolk 1954) and continues to do so (e.g. Bakker 2003a,b; Out 2009).A second influence, dating to the 1960s and 1970s, is the positivist processualapproach of New Archaeology, generated by several visiting scholars from abroad.They mainly focused on the Mesolithic and the transition to agriculture in theNetherlands and introduced elements of testing, statistics and spatial analysisinto Dutch archaeological discourse (e.g. Newell 1970; 1980; Price 1978; 1981;Whallon 1978).In the meantime German research concerning the Mesolithic and Neolithicin the study area was mainly dominated by the extensive LBK- and Rssenexcavations of the Aldenhovener Platte (e.g. Lning 1982a,b). These investigationscan be seen in the light of the extensive research into Siedlungslandschaften.Analyses to a significant degree also focused on the sequencing of artefacts andchronology (e.g. Arora 1976). Much research in Belgium, apart from several LBKand MK excavations, focused on the Mesolithic (e.g. Gob 1981; Vermeersch 1984;1989). Next to chronology and typology the Leuven school also meticulouslyexcavated several sites such as Weelde-Paardsdrank and Brecht-Moordenaarsvenin order to investigate aspects of spatial analysis and taphonomic disturbance(Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; Lauwers/Vermeersch 1982). Simultaneously the lowlying parts of the LRA saw the development of a wetland excavation tradition,characterized by the combination of various sources of information, mainlybecause of the preservation of organic remains. Excavations at Swifterbant fallwithin this spectrum as do those at Hekelingen and Vlaardingen (e.g. Deckers etal. 1981; Modderman 1953). Recently excavated sites within Malta archaeology,such as Hardinxveld-Giessendam, Hoge Vaart, Ypenburg, Doel-Deurganckdokand Schipluiden may also be placed within this context. An early German exampleis formed by Hde I in Niedersachsen (Deichmller 1969).From a distinct theoretical perspective developments have been more limited.Van de Velde (1979) for instance focused on the social aspects of the LBK. Verhart(2000) studied the transition to agriculture in the light of contact and exchangebetween foragers and farmers and Raemaekers (1999) used cultural transmissionas a means to study the rate of the process of Neolithisation. Recently, LouweKooijmans (2009) introduced the idea of agency in relation to an analysis ofHazendonk sites in the Delfland region. Overall these approaches have beenintent on arriving at distinct models for defining society and as such have alsoremained distinctly functional.

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Limited changeIt may be concluded that, in contrast to developments in British, Irish andScandinavian archaeology, the basic outline of Meso- and Neolithic research inthe LRA remained relatively constant. Several traditions, each with their ownemphases, might be defined. This may lead to problems of comparability, butthese are mostly of a practical nature. For instance, a meticulously documentedMesolithic flint scatter is not readily comparable to a Mesolithic site where mostanalytical attention has been devoted to studying the contents of hearthpits.In this respect one of the major changes of the last few years may prove to bethe introduction of commercial archaeology. This has on the one hand led to adifferent work-ethos which is often more inclined towards purely recording due toconstraints of time and money. On the other hand it (albeit incidentally) enabledexcavations of a previously unknown scale and importance. The impact of recentexcavations of sites such as Hardinxveld-Giessendam Polderweg and De Bruin,Schipluiden, Ypenburg and Hoge Vaart on the existing body of knowledge forthat specific period is indicative of the large differences in quality and potentialexisting in the available dataset. This raises the need for an assessment of thesedifferences as well as of the limits of comparability between high and low qualitysites.

4.4.3 General emphases in excavation practice

A major impact on the way in which sites are excavated, apart from issues of timeand funding, is the specific interplay between the nature of the archaeologicalremains and the regional and local geological and geomorphological situation. Animportant result of this is the fact that we use different scopes to study the pastin different areas. This can be demonstrated by a topical discussion of a numberof aspects.ScaleFor instance, many upland Mesolithic locations have been studied through smallscale excavation, focusing on the concentrations of artefacts (Cromb et al. 1999).In contrast upland Neolithic sites are usually excavated more extensively becauseof the assumed potential for finding features and structures and, often, the lessdistinct spatial information present at the surface. Wetland excavations are againoften limited in size due to the financial and technical restrictions in excavatingwaterlogged sites. Also the limited surface of the inhabited elevation, for instancea levee or a river dune may form a factor in this.It should be noted that these differences are not absolute. The excavation of awetland site on a coastal barrier, such as for instance Schipluiden or Ypenburg, is,to some extent, more comparable to an upland Neolithic excavation than to, forinstance, more distinct wetland sites and excavations, such as those at Hardinxveldor at Swifterbant-S3. While there is thus a coarse-grained distinction in the scale ofexcavation between Mesolithic and Neolithic upland sites and between upland andwetland sites, it is important to remark that the physical extent of the excavationsand the level of detail is significantly influenced by constraints of time and moneyand technological possibilities. Recent commercial excavations such as those atHardinxveld, Hoge Vaart, Schipluiden and Ypenburg, under the flag of large-scaleinfra-structural works (see Appendix I) in this respect are at the positive end of a

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diverse spectrum. Next to this factor the (expected) characteristics of archaeology

from a certain period or analogous site and specific research questions also shapethe characteristics of excavation.Finds and/or features?Apart from scale there are also other differences in field methodology, oftenrelated to the type of archaeology that one may expect to encounter. As arguedabove, many excavations of Mesolithic upland sites are aimed at recording artefactdistributions (see Weelde-Paardsdrank or Brecht-Moordenaarsven in AppendixI), while features form a prominent research aim at upland Neolithic sites (seeVeldhoven-Habraken, Appendix I). At wetland sites, both features and finds areoften preserved and may be recorded. These contrasts relate to whether previouspatterning in finds was present or whether features were there initially, as wellas to the extent that both have been preserved. For instance, apart from hearthscertain other features may not be expected or preserved at upland Mesolithicsites, and, as at Marinberg, pattering in finds may be absent altogether. In othersituations features may be extremely difficult to discover, as at many MiddleNeolithic sites on the sand and loess. Decisions are therefore made based on theassumed presence, or absence for that matter, of features and patterning in finds,which means that different emphases exist in excavation strategies.

4.4.4 Methodological characteristics of upland and wetland

excavationsApart from the more general contrasts discussed above a number of additionalaspects may be mentioned. In the following, a number of differences betweenmethodological approaches of sites will be discussed for Mesolithic and Neolithicupland sites and for wetland locations. While these are not exhaustive, they serve toillustrate the differences in datasets we are dealing with and the different emphasesthat exist in methodological approaches (see also Peeters et al. 2002).

4.4.4.1 ArtefactsBecause of the characteristics of preservation at sites, in combination with periodspecific artefact categories (i.e. absence of pottery at Mesolithic sites, howeversee Amkreutz et al. 2010), sites have been excavated with different emphases inrecording and analyses. In general, research at most Mesolithic upland sites hasbeen aimed at typo-technological analysis and spatial distribution. Both are affectedby the palimpsest effect due to recurrent (yet varying) use at different times, theabsence of a cover and post-depositional processes. The value of a definition ofcertain subgroups, as for instance has been done by the Leuven school (e.g. Groupedu Moordenaarsven, Groupe du Paardsdrank or Groupe du Ruiterskuil), is thereforeof limited chronological or functional value (see also Vermeersch 1984, 186193). Similarly, many techniques that were employed in the 1970s and 1980s todeal with spatial patterning (e.g. Newell 1984; Price et al. 1974; 1978; Huiskes1988; Whallon 1973; 1974; 1978) proved incapable of countering the palimpsesteffects (see Binford 1987a, 502-508; Hodder/Orton 1976, 239; Newell 1987).The usefulness of, for instance, 3D-recording as was initially done at sites suchas Bergumermeer, Weelde or the Hazendonk (see Appendix I; Huyge/Vermeersch1982) is currently being questioned due to the many occupation events that took

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place at these sites and their long exposure to post-depositional processes. For thewell-preserved Federmesser site of Rekem, the excavators argued: Although theymay have some heuristic value, and can certainly be used for testing hypotheses, wehave the overall impression that many of these procedures are no match for the complexprocesses involved in artefact distribution and they generally fail to contribute to theultimate interpretation of the layout (De Bie/Caspar 2000, 29). The regular use thesedays of applied archaeological cartographic software is also more geared towardsenhancing the visual and thematic interpretation of sites. It therefore appears thatthe erstwhile popular procedures involving intensive three-dimensional recordingand complex statistical analysis have become obsolete for most of the studied sitesin the LRA. The complex nature of syn- and postdepositional processes and thedifferences among these are much better controlled by a flexible and contextualperspective that correlates the precision of the excavation technique with the levelof taphonomic disturbance.At Neolithic upland sites the distribution of finds, even in the plough soil, hasrecently received increased attention, because of the possibilities of correlationwith visible or expected features below (Rensink et al. 2006).5 Overall, for the sitesstudied some patterning in upland finds may be witnessed, but this seems relatedto a significant degree to the exposure time before a cover formed. The spatialpatterning in finds at a site such as Sint-Odilinberg-Neliske is inferior to that atsites that were covered shortly following occupation, such as for instance Gasselor Schipluiden (see Appendix I).Specific preservationAnother aspect related to this is the degree to which certain artefact categories havebeen preserved. A first example is formed by pottery. Apart from some Mesolithicsites with questionable association pottery does occur at Neolithic upland sites, butonly to a limited extent. In contrast to, for example, the preservation environment inLBK pits, pottery at Neolithic upland sites seems to have suffered intensively frompost-depositional processes and exposure to the elements. Its survival is dependenton baking temperature, clay and temper used and the acidity of the soil in whichthe sherds have become embedded (Groenewoudt 1994, 113; Raemaekers 2005b,16). This poses a distinct problem for the identification of (the nature of ) sitesand their cultural attribution in upland environments. Examples included MiddleNeolithic flint scatters or the question to what extent Swifterbant and Hazendonksites occur on the Pleistocene sandy soils (e.g. Amkreutz/Verhart 2006; Niekus2009; Raemaekers 1999, 123; Raemaekers 2005a, 262; Vanmontfort 2004, 313).Apart from lithic and ceramic finds, organic artefacts are virtually absent inthe upland areas. This forms a strong contrast to wetland sites where, for both theMesolithic and Neolithic periods, organic remains, including artefacts, providea wealth of information (Coles/Coles 1989; Louwe Kooijmans 1993a, 73). Sincethis forms a problem for comparing sites, other categories such as site size, featuretype and lithic assemblage provide a means for analysis of similarities in use andfunction (see also Chapter 5). Evidently the differences in preservation have alsoinfluenced excavation and sampling choices as well as analytical techniques.

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4.4.4.2 FeaturesConcerning features, Mesolithic upland sites are characterised by surface hearthsand hearthpits (see for instance Marinberg, Weelde, or Opglabbeek in AppendixI). Finds from these features are often limited to (some) calcined bone, charcoal andcharred botanical remains. For the category of hearthpits research points to theiruse as specific facilities for low combustion burning, perhaps in the preparation offood or tools (Niekus 2006; Perry 1999). Other features are rarely recorded (for anexception see Marinburg, Louwe Kooijmans 2012b; Verlinde/Newell 2006) andare sometimes interpreted as ghost-structures based on the artefact distribution.At the sites of Weelde and Meeuwen-In den Damp, for instance, the presence ofhuts, or tents and activity areas is inferred by the patterning in lithic remains (seeAppendix I; Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; see also Stapert 1992). The supposed hutfeatures recorded at Bergumermeer-S64B are no longer tenable as such (Niekus2012). The absence of many structural features for Mesolithic upland sites mayvery well reflect the limited investment in built environment by these mobilegroups.Absence of evidence?For Neolithic upland sites the overall absence of features, except for the EarlyNeolithic LBK, poses a problem in the recognition and interpretation of sites.A good example is formed by the sparse information available for MK and SWVsettlements in the study area. most of these sites consist of scatters of flint ofvariable extent, some pottery and often no or very few features (e.g. LouweKooijmans 1998a, 413; Schreurs 2005, 309-310; Vanmontfort 2004, 313).Only in some cases are house plans discovered, such as recently at the Steinculture site of Veldhoven-Habraken (Van Kampen/Van den Brink 2013/in prep.)Their virtual absence on the sandy soils can be explained in several ways. Froma behavioural perspective it might be indicative of a rather ephemeral settlementsystem, marked by light structures and a frequent displacement of houses to newlocations. Evidence for a partially comparable system is available from SouthernScandinavia, Britain and Ireland (e.g. Barclay 1996; Sheridan 2013; Smyth 2006).The often-solitary occurrence of features furthermore led to the assumption ofsingle house sites, which were regularly rebuilt elsewhere as the soil was depleted(see Cauwe et al. 2001; Verhart 2000, 219). We thus may overestimate the visibilityof the initial material reflection of this type of settlement system. The elaboratehouses from Veldhoven, however, seem to argue against this (although they, ofcourse, need not be emblematic for Neolithic upland occupation). The absenceof decent faunal spectra for upland Neolithic sites, or evident indications for cropcultivation unfortunately means no further light can be thrown on issues of siteduration and permanence.There is on the other hand also evidence of severe taphonomic disturbanceof features dating to this period (e.g. Burnez-Lanotte et al. 1996; Groenewoudt1994; Vanmontfort 2004; see also below). Groenewoudt (1994, 113) mentionsthe disturbing effects of bioturbation and soil formation processes leading to thegradual disappearance of features, especially on well-drained sandy soils. Featureshave often disappeared or are only visible on a lower level and thus easily missed(see table 4.6). To some extent this is less the case with features at, for instanceLBK, or Late Neolithic sites, at least on the loess. These seem to have been dug

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Site

Nfeatures

N preh.features/Neolithic

N Neolithic structures

Gassel

Grave-Pater Berthierstraat

10

3/1

Helden-PanningenIndustrieterrein

>318

318/3

Ittervoort-Santfort

>300

c. 100/3

Kesseleik-Keuperheide

>4

4/1

Koningsbosch

Linden-de Geest

57

16/1

Linden-Kraaienberg

45

45/3

MeeuwenDonderslagheide

St-Odilinberg-Neliske

42

17/2

1?

Sweikhuizen

before and after the period of soil formation respectively (pers. comm. J.W. deKort 2012; see also Rensink et al. 2006; St.-Odilinberg-Neliske in AppendixI).6Finally, we might be looking for these structures in the wrong manner. Byopening long and narrow commercial test trenches, Neolithic house sites, possiblyconsisting of dispersed functionally distinct areas, might easily slip through theestablished mesh as was demonstrated for the site of Stora Herrestand in Sweden(Rowley-Conwy 2004, 93-94).At wetland sites features are in general reasonably well-preserved, due to (oftenrelatively) quick sedimentation rates. As demonstrated at sites such as Hardinxveld,Schipluiden, Ypenburg and Hoge Vaart, this offers the opportunity of combininginformation from finds and features, which affords a better handle on occupationdynamics. A good example is formed by the clustering of finds at Schipluiden (seeWansleeben/Louwe Kooijmans 2006) and the information this yielded on thehabitation areas defined by clusters of posts.

4.4.4.3 Chronology and dating

Apart from feature- and find-related contrasts between upland and wetlandlocations, both also offer a different potential for sampling. With respect toabsolute and relative dating and chronology of sites, the differences are marked.Upland sites suffer from a limited amount of material suitable for radiocarbondating. Furthermore, especially charcoal has often been contaminated, or suffersfrom the old-wood effect and problems may arise in the pre-treatment of samples(Cromb et al. 1999; 2012; Lanting/Van der Plicht 1999/2000, 4-5; Van Strydoncket al. 1995; Waterbolk 1971). Short-lived samples such as hazelnut shells mayyield better results. Nevertheless, one of the major issues at these locations isthe question of association of samples and the phenomenon that is to be dated(Waterbolk 1971, 15-16). Van Strydonck et al. (1995, 291; see also Cromb etal. 2012) mention the fact that especially archaeological sites on the sandy soilssuffer from the dislocation of artefacts and datable material. The main reason isthe lack of an adequate and swift covering of previous habitation surfaces. Thelong-term stability of the landscape therefore leads to contamination due to synand postdepositional processes. Verhart (2000, 213), for instance, mentions the

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Table 4.6 Indication of the

presence and visibility ofNeolithic features on theupland sandy soils. The secondcolumn indicates the numberof prehistoric features andpositively identified Neolithicfeatures on the basis of theircontents (see Appendix I forfurther details).

intrusiveness of material from other levels. Another important aspect is the generalabsence of pit fills at upland sites as argued above. Based on these characteristicsVan Strydonck et al. (1995, 296) have therefore opted to abandon the classicrelationship between dates, stratigraphy and artefacts in some cases and to treatthe available 14C dates as a group within which clusters can be defined.For wetland sites one of the problems is formed by the reservoir effect, whichcauses 14C samples of animal and human bone as well as food remains (residue onpottery etc.) to be dated as much as several hundreds of years older than expected.7Samples from several species of water plants are also unreliable because of theiruptake of water with an ancient signature (hard water effect).8 In general, however,wetland sites offer a range of benefits for dating and establishing site-chronology.With respect to absolute dating the organic material and its association to thearchaeological finds or features that are to be dated is often far less ambiguous.Apart from that, the (potential) cover by peat or clay in subsequent phases ofsedimentation offers a partitioning of the site in stratigraphical layers (see alsoabove). The relative periodization of these sites therefore offers a better frameworkfor dating phases and events. It may therefore be concluded that the degree ofspatio-temporal and general chronological control is appreciably greater at wetlandsites.

4.4.4.4 Subsistence, seasonality and ecology

Although self-evident some remarks may be made regarding the informationavailable for reconstructing subsistence, seasonality and ecology. Regarding allthree topics the potential degree of information available from wetland sites isconsiderably larger when compared to upland locations (see wetland sites inAppendix I). This mainly relates to the fact that a much wider array of organicremains, informative on subsistence and the wider environment is preserved atthese sites, whereas most organic information on upland sites has to be derivedfrom charred botanical remains or calcined fragments of bone. These offer amuch smaller and distorted sample that is also filtered by the necessity of firefor preservation and therefore (often) only represents a hearth-related sample. Agood example is provided by the wealth of organic information available for thewetland Mesolithic sites of Polderweg and De Bruin (Louwe Kooijmans 2003),in comparison to for instance the botanical information from hearthpit sites suchas NP-3 (Perry 2002) or the faunal remains preserved at Weelde-Paardsdrank(Huyge/Vermeersch 1982). With respect to environmental reconstruction pollenforms a category of information that may be present in both upland and wetlandcontexts, although it should be noted that problems of association or intrusionoccur more frequently and intensely at upland sites (e.g. Vermeersch et al. 1992).While it is easy to caricaturize the distinct contrasts that exist in this respectbetween upland and wetland sites, this is not helpful. Yet, it should be stressedthat we are dealing with very different datasets that are hard to compare and thatmake inferences about subsistence, site location choice and seasonality or mobilityin different landscape zones difficult. It therefore remains necessary to integrateorganic data, or the absence thereof, with artefact categories or other aspects, suchas site location choice, features and sources of information such as pollen etc. thatare intercomparable and that may offer a better understanding of the similarities

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and differences in behaviour in different (upland and wetland) areas (see alsoChapter 5).Something that redresses the (dis)balance in information a little is the fact thatthe wider palaeolandscape in the wetlands can only be established by augeringand removing covers, while on the uplands it is to a large extent visible at thesurface. Differences do of course arise once again when attempting to reconstructvegetation and fauna, for which upland locations offer fewer and more limitedopportunities.Problems in sampling and analysisWhile the quantitative and qualitative balance in available sources of (organic)information clearly lies with sites in the wetland spectrum, this does not meanthat the information deriving from them is necessarily straightforward. Especiallywith respect to faunal and botanical remains, many problems and pitfalls can beencountered when trying to establish an idea of subsistence, seasonality or ecology(see also Rowley-Conwy 2004). Without attempting to be exhaustive a number ofthese may be briefly mentioned.For botanical remains this for instance involves differences in the degree towhich certain species will be preserved (for instance hazelnuts), due to theirphysical qualities or preparation in cooking etc. With respect to agriculture thereis a difference in the importance of specific sources of information. Palynologicalinformation may shed light on threshing or cultivation activities (Cerealia andLandnam pollen), or the presence of open spaces. Ard or hoe marks may pointto crop cultivation, as does sickle gloss on lithic instruments or, potentially, thepresence of long straws among the botanical remains. Grinding stones againonly point to consumption, while macro-remains of cereals may point both toconsumption and preparation (threshing or winnowing in the case of chaff andconsumption in the case of cereals). Non-local weeds may indicate where cerealswere grown and whether they were imported (e.g. Bromus secalinus). Arguablyit is the combination of these indicators in relation to quantitative issues andsite location choice that may shed light on, for instance, the question of localcultivation versus the import of cereals (see also Bakels 1986; Cappers/Raemaekers2008; Out 2009; Rowley-Conwy 2004).Similar considerations apply to faunal remains. For instance, regarding thedifferential preservation of bones (e.g. autolysis in fish bones, and the predominanceof bony sturgeon plates, or the superior preservation of longbones in mammalscompared to other skeletal elements etc.). Related to this is the number ofidentifications compared to the number of counts (e.g. Van Neer et al. 2005,282), the elements that are taken to the sites and the interpretational differencesbetween the number of bones, the bone weight and the caloric or meat valueattached to these. This is especially poignant when attempting to compare thesubsistence contribution of diverging categories such as fish, birds and terrestrialanimals. Another aspect is formed by the presence of background fauna (andflora) that should be filtered out (see also Beerenhout 2001; Binford 1981b; Zeiler1997).A different topic involves the difficulties that arise in metric distinction betweenwild boar and pig and aurochs and cattle and the validity of distinguishing acombined category of pig and wild boar (as was for instance done at P14, seeGehasse 1995, 5; see also Albarella et al. 2007; Rowley-Conwy et al. 2012). It

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should be realised what consequences this has for identifying the (economical) stageof Neolithisation based on faunal counts, as is for instance done in the availabilitymodel (see Zvelebil/Rowley-Conwy 1984; Zvelebil 1986a; Raemaekers 1999). Ofa different nature, but also important are the specific questions addressed to thefaunal samples. Was the aim to arrive at a purely biological count, or were morebehavioural questions such as subsistence, environment, seasonality and huntingstrategies taken into account?These considerations indicate that many factors and filters impose themselveson our interpretation of botanical and faunal information, for answering questionsof subsistence, seasonality and land-use. Although wetland sites may be regardedas qualitatively superior in preservation, and thus also in terms of informationregarding many of these issues, the actual value of the information depends onthe manner in which it was analysed and the degree to which various filters weredealt with. It is therefore important to note that while there may be a specificphysical distinction in the information sources available resulting in our dealingwith different types of datasets, there are furthermore distinct methodologicaldifferences in the way these different datasets were recovered, sampled and analysedand in the specific problems these differences yield.9 One of the major factorsagain is the degree to which time and funding was available for and allocated totackling these issues.

4.4.4.5 Implications for establishing site-function

Taking into account the considerations above, it becomes apparent that there areconsiderable differences in the (types of ) data available at wetland and uplandsites that result in a number of different methodological emphases in excavatingand analysing information from these locations. As argued earlier it is thereforedifficult to compare sites located in these different environments. Nevertheless, byfocusing on other categories of information, such as for instance pottery or lithicremains (artefact spectrum, number of finds, distribution, raw material sources,use-wear), features, site locations choice etc., certain similarities and differences insite-use and site function may be recognized (see Chapter 5).With respect to the position of sites in the process of Neolithisation inparticular, it may be argued that the identification and quantification of cultigensand domesticates often pose problems of their own. The relative contribution ofthese novelties both to the diet as well as in daily life are, however, more importantthan their presence or absence (see also Chapter 3 and Chapters 7-8). To someextent, the often-encountered (taphonomic) difficulties with establishing therelative contribution of specific categories of food to the diet might partially beresolved or complemented by isotope analysis (e.g. Smits et al. 2010). Finally, itis important to be aware of the fact that while botanical and faunal indicatorspotentially provide an idea of the stage within the transition to agriculture, orin terms of Zvelebil (1986a), availability, substitution and consolidation, thisdoes not directly translate into how (new) resources were dealt with, or to whatextent a process of Neolithisation progressed. This will be further touched uponin Chapter 7.

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4.4.5 A note on the limits and delimitation of sites

Apart from the general methodological considerations discussed above, thedifferent geological situation and associated site formation processes in uplandsand wetlands also influence the extent of sites that may be documented (cf. supra).Furthermore, it presents different opportunities and problems with respect to thedelimitation of the site itself, its perimeter and the wider region.With respect to site extent, a brief review of the sites in Appendix I indicatesthat the majority has not been excavated completely and that, except at somelocations where augering or testpitting took place, the overall extent of the site isnot known. It appears that site extents are somewhat better established for wetlandsites, which of course predominantly relates to a more limited palimpsest effectand the preservation of intact occupation layers that may be delimited (e.g. LouweKooijmans/Verbruggen 2011), in combination with, for example, the physicalextent of a river dune or levee.Behavioural limitsApart from site-formative issues it is also difficult to establish the delimitationof sites from a behavioural perspective. In the case of Mesolithic flint scatters,such as those at Brecht-Moordenaarsven (Vermeersch et al. 1992), refit analysismay attest to the contemporaneity of certain clusters or concentrations at a site,although it cannot be excluded that what is actually documented is the re-use ofmaterial that was discovered at a later moment after a cluster came into existence.Of course the blurring of patterns in this respect increases when sites have beensubject to more intense spatio-temporal collapse and re-use of locations (Binford1982; Conkey 1987). The same problems are to be found at wetland sites. Forinstance the supposed twin-site relationship between Hardinxveld-Polderwegand De Bruin (see Louwe Kooijmans 2003) is a plausible educated guess, buthard to prove conclusively. In line with this, the occurrence of archaeologicalindicators next to well-excavated sites such as Bergschenhoek, Schipluiden, HogeVaart and Bergumermeer (see Appendix I) may perhaps not cast doubts upon thedegree to which the core of these locations has been documented, but does raisethe question to what extent it relates to similar, subordinate, or perhaps in the caseof Bergschenhoek, larger activity areas in the vicinity.As was already mentioned earlier, resource issues of time and moneyimportantly influence the extent of what is known, as well as the difficultiesthat arise technically, as is for instance demonstrated by the relatively limitedexcavations at wetland sites, in relation to estimated site sizes (see table 4.7).On the other hand specific research traditions may be an influence here aswell. Cromb et al. (1999) for instance argue that the absence of hearthpits atmost of the Belgian Mesolithic sites might be due to the limited area that isusually excavated. Such considerations are especially telling when it is realized thatintersite refits and raw material from, in this case, the Early Mesolithic sites atWeelde-Voorheide, indicates that functional relations may exist between clusterslocated at a considerable distance from each other (possibly up to 300 m; Verbeek1996).

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Table 4.7 Excavated and

estimated site surface ofseveral wetland sites. Notethat often only small sampleshave been excavated.

Site

Extentexcavation m2

Est. extentsite m2

References

Hdx-Polderweg layer 1

448

4000

Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001

Hdx-Polderweg layer 2

448

1600

Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001

Hdx-De Bruin layer 1

345

1200

Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001

Hdx-De Bruin layer 2

345

1200

Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001

Swifterbant S3/5/6

400

600-760

De Roever 2004/Van der Waals 1977

Swifterbant S2

451

750

Raemaekers et al. 2005; De Roever 2004

Brandwijk L30

29

200 + top

Raemaekers 1999

Brandwijk L50

29

1500 + top

Raemaekers 1999

Brandwijk L60

29

1600 + top

Raemaekers 1999

Hazendonk Haz-1

342

800

Raemaekers 1999; Verbruggen 1992b

Hazendonk Haz-2

342

300

Raemaekers 1999; Verbruggen 1992b

Hazendonk Haz-3

342

730

Raemaekers 1999; Verbruggen 1992b

Hazendonk-VL1b

342

760

Raemaekers 1999; Verbruggen 1992b

Nevertheless, as is demonstrated by excavations such as those at Hardinxveld,

or from a different perspective Hoge Vaart, the limited sample of a high resolutionexcavation, or a part of it, may within certain limits be considered representativefor the entire site (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2001a; Peeters 2007).From site to regionOn a related but larger scale the level of information on sites and settlementsystems in the region is also dependent on local geomorphological circumstancesand site formation processes. In general it may be postulated that upland sites aremore easily detectable, since they are at or near the surface and may be documentedby fieldwalking etc. Wetland sites on the other hand are often not visible at thesurface. This means that they are only discovered by methods such as augering,or for instance construction work. Specifically telling in this respect is the quickincrease in number of sites and information on the Swifterbant, Hazendonk groupand Vlaardingen culture occupation of the Delfland area and the region aroundRotterdam over the past decade (see Appendix I; Koot et al. 2008; Louwe Kooijmans2006a; Meirsman/Moree 2005). This points to the fact that these days, despitethe limited scope for surface surveys, wetland areas offer indirect opportunitiesto conduct regional research. Similar work has been conducted directly in theAlblasserwaard region by an extensive augering programme conducted by theFaculty of Archaeology (Leiden University; see Louwe Kooijmans/Verbruggen2011; Verbruggen 1992b; Verbruggen in prep.), documenting the Mesolithic andNeolithic occupation of the donken area. Recently (Louwe Kooijmans 2009) ithas been demonstrated for the Hazendonk occupation of the Delfland regionthat these regional perspectives throw an interesting light on the diversity withinthe settlement system and the behavioural choices made by contemporaneouscommunities (see also Chapter 6).A cautionary note is called for as we have still only documented part of thepotential of occupation locations that may have been present. For the area aroundSchipluiden an estimate was made of the total surface of (inhabitable) dunes inthe area. This was based on the augering data gathered at Schipluiden (see Mol

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2006, fig. 14.7). By measuring the total dune surface mapped by augering and itscontribution to the overall area documented, an estimate of 12% was established,incorporating a certain correlation for less intensively investigated zones (cf. Mol2006, 282; see fig. 4.12). Subsequently this number was extrapolated for the entireback-barrier area. This procedure is of course complex since the extents of the areadocumented and calculated are flexible, but it can serve as a rough estimate. Forthe coastal back-barrier area, measuring approximately 34 km2, the total surfacearea of potentially inhabitable locations amounts to 4.1 km2. Yet, only a total ofapproximately 10.000 m2 (1 ha) has been archaeologically excavated, although anumber of locations were investigated by augering etc. Overall it can, however, besuggested that approximately 0.25% of the inhabitable area has been investigated.Another example is formed by the Swifterbant area where only a mere 2% of thepotential site surface has been excavated (see Devriendt 2013; Raemaekers 2006).Of course only a small percentage of the inhabitable area was actually used, butthis serves to demonstrate how much terra incognita remains. In our interpretationof past settlement systems and site functions we should be aware of what we donot (yet) know and, regarding-the upland-wetland distinction discussed earlier,deal with the quantitative benefits and methodological limitations of the former,versus the qualitative character and spatio-temporal opportunities afforded by thelatter.

4.4.6 Retaining a site approach?

The foregoing paragraphs have discussed various methodological repercussions ofdealing with sites in different (upland and wetland) contexts. It should be apparentthat sites in different geological and site-formative environments offer differentopportunities and constraints for establishing site function and site delimitation(identification of what belongs to the site proper, to the site perimeter and to itsdirect surroundings (see also Bakels 1978)). Furthermore, the potential for regionaland landscape-oriented investigations differs. In the past, especially some of theconstraints of identifying sites have led to approaches that advocate a regional orlandscape perspective on archaeological information instead of a site approach.This has contributed significantly to our understanding of settlement systems andlandscape use, but it is argued here that the site should not be abandoned as aconceptual framework in archaeology.Site criticismUnderlying a regional or landscape approach is the idea that, although in manyarchaeological studies the site is often the basic (spatial) unit of analysis, its value asa heuristic device is questionable. Foley (1981, 157) argues that the archaeologicalrecord is not punctuated but spatially continuous. Within the overall dispersion ofartefacts localized densities occur, or, according to Isaac, patches within a scatter(1981, 136). We usually refer to these concentrations as sites, but they come intoexistence for different reasons related to various syn- and postdepositional events.In this respect Dunnell (1992, 26-29) refers to them as accretionary phenomena.According to Dunnell sites are often perceived as things that can be observed,rather than units that are constructed by observation at a particular point in time

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(ibid. 26). While the contemporary nature of the archaeological record is generallyaccepted, Dunnell proceeds from this point and argues that sites should thereforenot be used as units of observation, association, counting and interpretation.10For the Mesolithic and Neolithic of the LRA Peeters (2007, 23-27) documentssimilar problems regarding the delimitation of Stone Age sites. Should thedistribution of lithic remains be documented, or perhaps that of bone or charcoal?Drawing on the arguments put forward by Foley (1981) and Dunnell (1992),Peeters opts to abandon the site concept in favour of a landscape approach.According to him the site-approach is an actualistic approach by which inferencesare drawn with regard to settlement systems as an expression of landscape use.His criticism is levelled at the idea that the evidence for dimensions of land-useis not restricted to points and that in this way many aspects of behaviour are notstudied (ibid. 25). This, however, seems a semantic discussion. Binford (1992,50-51), for example, defines sites as conceptual generalizations about the spatialdistribution of artifacts but he also stresses the importance of scalar variability,which is differentially accessible in the landscape and responsible for the variabilityin patterning. While Binford emphasises scale, Peeters (2007, 26) argues it is notabout scale.The notion site is understood to be problematic. Much more than spatiallyand chronologically integrated loci of functionally coherent artefacts and features,they (archaeologically) are the material amalgamations of (mainly) disposal andabandonment activities. Moreover, the occurrence and specific constellationof these static and mobile phenomena at locations referred to as sites, is to beimputed to a considerable variety of factors, including anthropogenic behaviouras well as natural processes. Peeters (2007, 26) argues that there are manyactivities with little or no archaeological output (for instance a discarded scraperor a palynological signal) that are of equal importance. Arguing whether or notthey are covered by a site approach is, however, strongly dependent on whatone defines as such. From an analytical perspective the concept of site is indeedinsufficient since it is only a clustering of archaeologically detectable, materialmanifestations of the archaeological record. On the other hand one might wonderto what extent the informative value of archaeological data not covered by theconcept of site sensu lato, can be contextualized, characterized and attributed to thearchaeological and cultural object of investigation (e.g. Jeunesse 2003). From aninterpretative viewpoint, however, the concept of site is very much an ontologicalcategorization. It has value for the contemporary archaeologist working at a siteor with the information excavated or documented. It has documented or inferredboundaries and the information acquired serves as a contrast or comparison toother sites or isolated finds and patterning. Whether or not in concordance withthis contemporary perspective, sites in a past reality would have been equallyrelevant as the locations of some form of past human activity of singular, repetitiveor interspersed nature. Sites in this sense might have had no specific meaning tooccupants in the past, but may also have been a form of niche construction (e.g.a bountiful hunting location), a field or fishing weir, a home or a sacred place.Dealing with sitesIt seems that abandoning the site-concept is unnecessary. Considering thearchaeological record from a different scale such as a landscape or artefact approachmight lead to new insights and is therefore recommendable. However, the essential

lower rhine area sites: a qualitative review

to do so, remains the same (cf. Binford 1992, 55). Apart from this, abandoningsites as units of interpretation overlooks the fact that they are meaningful ontwo different levels. First of all sites, apart from being distorted accretionaryphenomena, do have an intrinsic functional value. With appropriate techniquesmost sites, to some extent, can spatially or stratigraphically be broken down intochronologically and/or functionally autonomous or related components. Apartfrom an adequate cover this is mainly dependent on the level of redundancy andwhether or not activities were more or less spatially bound (see also Sommer 1991).The presence and re-occurrence of built environment and activities at a certainplace are thus purposeful and provide meaningful insight into past societies.Secondly, from an emic perspective the site concept is of value since it providesthe means to translate space into place. Whereas the former is a physical concept,the latter is meaningfully constituted and of actual (albeit variable) significanceto past societies (see also Casey 1996; Ingold 2000; Feld/Basso 1996; Jones 2007;Verhoeven 1999). The sites studied here were often ordered and structured bytheir initial users. They often formed fixed points in daily routines and seasonal orannual cycles of mobility. There is ample evidence of the development of certainlocations into persistent places that witnessed repeated occupation and use overmany decades and even centuries (e.g. Barton et al. 1995; Schlanger 1992). Even ifthey only represent isolated singular activities, their location and structuring willusually have been more than purely coincidental. Abandoning the site-conceptis thus also partly abandoning a search for classification. For these reasons it isvaluable to retain the site concept and wield it as a basic unit of analysis andinterpretation as is done in this study. Sites and especially excavated sites thusremain the archaeologists bread and butter as was stated by Binford (2002, 109).11However, for a better understanding of the dynamics of past systems, especiallywithin a coherent regional context, it is obvious that an integrated approachincorporating landscape and artefact perspectives is both necessary and of greatvalue. Sites remain in need of contextualization.

4.4.7 Current Dutch situation

The overview above has singled out several common methodological problemsranging from perspectives regarding the implications of Neolithic and Mesolithic,through sampling procedure, to the role of sites and the limits of our interpretations.As has been argued, issues of time, money and resources have often formed and stillform a crucial factor regarding the quality and quantity of the information that isexcavated. Over the past two decades much has changed in the archaeological fieldin the Netherlands. The most important development was the introduction of acommercial market for excavation next to the research conducted by universitiesand the Cultural Heritage Agency of the Netherlands (RCE).Because of the implementation of the Treaty of Valetta in Dutch law (the Maltalaw) we are currently faced with an archaeology predominantly characterizedby cultural resource management, commercially operating companies, buildingplans, time schedules and often strictly limited budgets. This has on the one handopened previously closed doors, enabling intensive and expensive excavationssuch as performed at Hardinxveld, Schipluiden and Hoge Vaart, although onemay debate to what extent these large-scale projects are representative of the

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average research conducted. On the other hand Malta archaeology also limits the(academic) freedom of deciding which direction new research should take and,for instance, what new quintessences should be defined in studying the processof Neolithisation. Hodder (1999, 31) argues that in recent decades it oftenseems as if the recording process has come to determine the digging process as well asthat as recording systems have become more formalized, excavation often seems toproceed as if the ground was being looked at through the recording system. Rather thanthe recording system serving the interests of knowledge acquisition, the relationshipis inversed and we dig in order to record. The limited manoeuvring space withincommercial archaeology for surpassing the level of basic documentation andreporting in favour of investing in interpretation, as well as the restrictions withregard to where and how to excavate, might, in time, result in our looking througha Malta-filter. Although this may be too bleak a picture, two general conclusionsmight be drawn from the methodological analysis above. The first one is theneed for sites to be excavated completely. Much more information can be gainedfrom integrally excavating qualitatively potential sites, than having an elaboratecollection of much less informative postage stamps. While in many cases this willnot be possible, it is necessary to invest in contextualization. This might involveas widely diverse activities as augering or surveying for site extents, samplingnearby wet locations to establish the impact of a site on the landscape, or studyinggrey literature to better place a site within its regional context. This indicatesthat the means available are ideally distributed according to what is academicallymost interesting leading to an informative balance between parts and wholes.Therefore a constant dialogue between commercial archaeology and the academicfield is very important as well as a consistent update and discussion of documentssuch as the NOaA.12,13A second conclusion can be linked to the previous one and involves thebenefits of a non-dogmatic approach in fieldwork and subsequent analysis. Sinceevery excavation will be different because its subject matter is unique and theprocedure of knowledge acquirement is not replicable, the field is not availed byrigid standard procedures. A certain level of flexibility and freedom is required tomaximize the potential of information available. Another term would be fluidity(cf. Hodder 1999, 93) in research procedures. It is felt here that the future of(Stone Age) archaeology would ideally benefit from a commercial focus on thecontextualization and embedding of the information that it excavates as well as acommercial practice with enough elbow room to shift emphases along the wayfrom a methodological and interpretative perspective.

4.5 An archaeological site typology

The previous sections have demonstrated how sites in the LRA are affected byvarious behavioural and taphonomic syn- and postdepositional processes and thattheir interpretation is strongly dependent on the scope for and approach chosenin methodology. While these factors of course differ per site and context thecombined overview of sites that have been documented for the period and regionstudied allows for a categorization mainly based on non-functional aspects.In view of the landscape and regional perspectives that have arisen onarchaeological patterning (De Loecker 2006; Dunnell 1992; Foley 1981;Peeters 2007) it is argued here that sites as a classificatory tool of analysis and

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some features and 'decapitated top'

Prominent sandywetland elevations

wet

dry'decapitated top'

habitation

top

activity area

colluviation

slopewaste; discardandactivity area

preservation/sedimentation

features

toss zonefinds

foot

topfeatures on top and slope

Moderate sandywetland elevations

slope

footwet

dryresidential area?

preservation/sedimentation

featuresfinds

toss zone

top

Weak elevations

gradual density decrease

slope

foot

wet/dry

wet/dryfindsfeatures

finds and features top centred

features often limited or absent in upland conditions

slope

top

potential houseplan

Multiple clusters

(semi-)isolated clusters

foot

spatial clusteringfindsfeatures

features often limited or absent in upland conditions

slope

top

Distorted sites

foot

features or finds without clear context

features

finds

?unclear correlation features and findsslope

top

Isolated sites and off-site finds

foot

good spatio-temporal resolution

clear pattern and contextpunctuated coincidencefeatures and finds

limited palimpsest formation

however, between the functional aspects of sites within a settlement system (e.g.Binford 1980; Flannery 1976) and an archaeological site typology, both basedon archaeological site parameters. An example of a functional, interpretativeclassification is given by Peeters et al. (2002, table 5, pp. 110). The problem withthis approach and its definition of site types in relation to resolution is that itdoes not incorporate taphonomic disturbance and re-use of locations. It focuseson rare pristine sites. An archaeological or descriptive typology is directly relatedto the various processes and alterations described above. For the sites studied hereand located in the LRA, specific sets of syn- and postdepositional processes can bedefined. There are also similarities in site location and there is a basic subdivisionbetween upland and wetland locations. Since the groups of hunter-gatherersand early farmers responsible for the deposition of archaeological remains in thesubstrate operated in all these environments a basic site classification based onthe combination of their material output and general processes of taphonomyand site formation might be useful. Based on this a number of general sitetemplates can be proposed that are based on geomorphological characteristics, incombination with specific taphonomic or spatial particularities. These should notbe regarded as absolute standards or categories, since they are strongly dependenton the local situation, in relation to post-depositional taphonomic processes andhuman behaviour. From this perspective some sites may be assigned to more thanone category. The site templates may, however, be of a general indicative value,implying that various intermediate situations exist. Below six sketches of sitetemplates are presented (see fig. 4.12) followed by a brief description of theirparticularities and informative value.

4.5.1 Prominent wetland sandy elevations (river dunes)

Overall, sites located on donken (river dunes) are situated on relatively highand pronounced geomorphological elevations. They therefore demonstratea prominently zoned preservation, consisting of three zones; the top (oftenpartially preserved, see below), the slope and the foot. Dependent on the localgeomorphological situation, occupation history and sedimentation processesthese form the backdrop to a complex interaction between cultural and naturalformation processes. The archaeological signature of these sites often indicates adiscontinuous long-term use of the same location.

Fig. 4.12 Site templates

depicting archaeological sitestypes from a post-systemicperspective.

Finds - Most finds are found on the slope and at the foot. Several processes areresponsible for this. First of all the gradient of the dune in combination with erosionof the top and sides and colluviation is responsible for a downward movement ofartefacts. Concentrations of finds as for example attested at Polderweg might thushave a natural origin. Secondly the wet conditions at the foot of the dune limitthe area available for habitation and activities. This might lead to a sort of barriereffect, which would be less or non-existent at upland sites. Thirdly anthropogenicstructuring of the area available on the donk probably resulted in an activity areaon the lower slope and at the foot of the dune. The proximity of water might havebeen useful for many activities while the slope higher up on the dune might havebeen inconvenient due to its gradient and was perhaps used as a residential area.

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The existence of this structuring of activities can, for instance, be found in theexistence of toss and dropzones (Binford 1978b) as identified, for instance at thesites of Polderweg and De Bruin (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2003).Features - Features are often found on the slope of the dune. This may, however,be a remnant pattern since structures and features on the top often have erodeddue to the more extensive exposure of these areas to the elements and subsequentactivities. Overall it is suggested that the top was the main habitation area (see forexample the donk of Brandwijk, Appendix I).Potential - Sites located on donken are extremely informative due to the preservationof organic remains and other sources of information related to, for example,subsistence, environment and seasonality. In the case of regular and adequatesedimentation, preservation of spatial patterning in a chronostratigraphic contextis possible. Nevertheless, sites on donken suffer from specific problems. Oftenthe information from the top of the donk can be considered a palimpsest or iscompletely absent due to postdepositional processes. This may even lead to adecapitated profile. That part of the site can therefore be more or less characterizedas of an upland nature. Due to the same and other processes there is a complexinteraction between natural and anthropogenic agents responsible for spatialpatterning of artefacts and other debris on the slopes and at the foot of the dune.This pattern contrasts with the organic and anorganic artefact pattern at wetlandsites suggested by Groenewoudt (1994, 128-129 as well as fig. 46, pp. 133). Basedmainly on an analysis of the TRB-site of Slootdorp-Bouwlust it is suggested therethat the proportion of organic remains is higher at the centre of the site. Thedonken sites indicate exactly the opposite. Virtually all organic information fromthe top is lost and most anorganic finds also cluster on the slope. Unfortunatelythis difference in preservation often poses a difficult problem in interpretation,since it is very difficult to correlate the stratified information from the slope andfoot with activities and features that occurred on the top.Site function - No clear information on the character of sites on donken andwetland dunes is available, yet it is noteworthy that, until now, all sites haveyielded a distinct amount of domestic evidence, either in the form of pottery,faunal remains, grinding stones etc., that points in the direction of a shorteror more elaborate domestic function. It is probable that the dry situation ofthese locations in a wetland environment leads some form of investment andpermanency, although other site functions may have operated coevally.Examples - Hardinxveld-Polderweg, Hardinxveld-De Bruin, Brandwijk, theHazendonk, Urk-E4.

4.5.2 Moderate wetland sandy elevations (coastal dunes and barriers

up to c. 1m)The tripartite division existing for donken sites can also be made for coastal dunesand barriers. The difference is that the overall available area existing for habitationis more extensive while the gradient of the elevation is often less steep. On theother hand the dynamic environment of the coastal area might lead to large-scaleerosion of parts of sites. On larger coastal ridges wetland preservation may belargely absent. This means more of an upland character for sites in these areas.

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Finds - The slopes of the dunes again form the background for most finds, althoughthe quantitative and qualitative aspects of the faunal remains of Wateringen IVindicate that the tops of these elevations also harbour important activity and dumpareas. Dependent on the local geomorphological situation and the location of theexcavation, the number of finds may range from several dozen (as at HaamstedeBrabers) to many thousands (Schipluiden). Furthermore sites such as Wateringenand Schipluiden demonstrate that the spatial distribution of finds and the existingconcentrations are much more a reflection of anthropogenic activity than oftaphonomic processes (as was the case for the donken sites).Features - Features mainly cluster on the top and sides of the elevation, although insome cases such as at Ypenburg entire parts of the top were also lost. In most casesthe features that survived much more represent intra-site structuring than theremnant distribution of features that survived intensive postdepositional processesas at many donken sites. Apart from this the actual length of occupation of thesite in combination with the rate of coverage might lead to intangible clusters offeatures, such as documented at Schipluiden. On the other hand clear site planswere found at Ypenburg, Wateringen IV and Haamstede-Brabers.Potential - Overall, sites on coastal dunes and barriers seem less affected bypostdepositional processes in relation to slopes than, for example, donken. Thisimplies that while marine transgressions and related phenomena may destroy largeparts of sites integrally, the intrasite patterning in many cases will be informative.Sometimes a clear relationship might even be attested between finds and featuresas, for instance, at Schipluiden.Site function - Most characteristic site information stemming from coastal dunes isof a domestic, residential nature. This can be of a more permanent and communitycharacter as at Schipluiden, or more singular as at Wateringen IV. Important isthe presence of house plans or indications thereof at most sites. A site such asYpenburg may in this respect be interpreted as a multiplied version of WateringenIV (see Louwe Kooijmans 2009), or it may be attributed to the category multipleclusters (see below).Examples - Haamstede-Brabers, Leidschendam, Schipluiden, Wateringen IV,(Ypenburg).

4.5.3 Low elevations (levees and low sandy elevations)

Another type of site is mainly different with respect to the distribution of findsand features. Although a basic tripartite subdivision as postulated above can alsobe applied here, the distribution and preservation of both finds and features ismuch more uniform. This may related to the height of the elevation and the rateof coverage, in combination with the (spatial) character of occupation (see alsomultiple clusters). These sites occur in upland and wetland locations, such aslevees and low sandy features.Finds - The distribution of finds (flint, pottery and organics) is oriented on thecentre of the site. Concentrations do exist yet overall the quantity decreasestowards the edges of the elevation.

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Features - Features mainly cluster on the top and sides of the elevation and generallycoincide with the distribution of finds. Dependent on the intensity and characterof re-occupation in combination with postdepositional processes structures may(Vlaardingen, Swifterbant-S3), or may not (the Hoge Vaart, Bergumermeer) bevisible. In upland locations or under upland conditions the feature informationmay be severely restricted or absent.Potential - Accumulative sites have a distinct centre which recurrently formed thelocation of occupation. This is also where finds and features cluster. The reasonfor this patterning with a clear fall-off curve is not known. It may be related to thelimited amount of space that was probably available at, for instance, sites such asVlaardingen and Swifterbant-S3. In the case of activities executed in the vicinityof a dwelling structure or house this may generate a centred pattern. On the otherhand a similar pattern is visible at Hoge Vaart where space is less limited. Theexistence of this kind of patterning is also strongly dependent on the area that isexcavated as well as the preservation of the highest parts of an elevation. Otherelements at a site such as another elevation or a channel may have formed thefocus of other structures and activities. The combination of sites and finds mayyield potential information on activities related to structures (e.g. Raemaekers etal. 1997; De Roever 2004).Site function - The site function of accumulative sites seems varied. On the onehand it may involve semi-permanent and domestic sites such as, for example,Swifterbant-S3 and Vlaardingen. On the other hand the occupation may be moreresidentially mobile and repetitive as at Bergumermeer. The characteristics are ofcourse also strongly influenced by the settlement system type of the occupants.The fall-off curve of artefacts and features is induced both by the nature of thelocation and the recurrent focus on a centre of occupation. Both domestic sitesand camps of hunter-gatherers fall within this category.Examples wetland - Bergschenhoek, Hoge Vaart, Slootdorp-Bouwlust, SwifterbantS3, Vlaardingen.Examples upland - Bergumermeer-S64B, Gassel.

4.5.4 Multiple clusters

This type of site occurs both in uplands and in wetlands and consists of two ormore clusters which are spatially separated. Upland sites are mostly of Mesolithicage while Middle Neolithic counterparts occur in the wetlands. The individualclusters are of different shape and extent, but their size is usually limited up toapproximately 200 m2. The intermediate area between the clusters is not empty,isolated finds and structures might be located there and the individual clustersmay also overlap to a certain extent. The clusters are usually found on the topand slope of an elevation, although lower locations are also possible, especially onupland sites.Finds - Upland Mesolithic flint scatters consist of concentrations of flint, oftenoval in shape. Within these concentrations clusters might be visible (as for instanceat Brecht-Moordenaarsven 2). Refit lines either indicate the contemporaneity of

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the formation different clusters or their visibility on the surface during occupation(and hence re-use of material). At wetlands sites sherds and organic remains canalso be found within the clusters.Features - At some upland sites the remains of hearths or singular pits coincidewith the concentration of artefacts (for instance at Opglabbeek Ruiterskuil,Weelde-Paardsrank, or Merselo-Haag). At other Mesolithic upland sites clustersof hearthpits, that to some extent may be structured chronologically, usually occuraway from the artefact distribution (see Chapter 5). At wetland sites the remainsof structures and hearths have been documented (see for example Hekelingen IIIand Lige-Place St.-Lambert).Analysis - Sites with multiple clusters are interesting because they are indicativeof a specific use of a certain feature in the landscape. There may be an overlap intime and space of activities and structures as certain concentrations are renewedand structures rebuilt (see for instance Hekelingen III). The existence of multipleclusters may point to the long-term use of and perhaps movement along a certainlandscape feature in the landscape such as a dune (see for instance the site ofLommel-Molse Nete) as well as to the contemporaneity of certain concentrations(Merselo-Haag, Hekelingen III). These observations should subsequently betranslated into hypotheses about mobility cycles, households and internal sitestructuring. Overall these sites indicate a non-permanent use of the same locationsin a landscape, often over extended periods of time. In this respect they formsmall-scale, interrelated versions of accumulative sites. The degree of clustering ofactivities may inversely point to the duration of occupation (see Schiffer 1972)Site function - The multiple nature of these sites indicates several contemporary orsubsequent foci of activity. Due to their often limited size these more or less falleither within a range of hunting camps (Weelde-Paardsdrank), or can be classifiedas domestic sites occupied for a limited time period (Hekelingen III).Examples wetland - Hekelingen I, Hekelingen III, Lige-Place St.-Lambert.Examples upland - Brecht-Moordenaarsven 2, Marinberg, Meeuwen in den DampI, Merselo-Haag, Opglabbeek-Ruiterkuil, Weelde-Paardsdrank.

4.5.5 Distorted sites

This is an additional category comprising the large variability existing inpredominantly post-Mesolithic upland sites, or sites in wetland areas that arelargely characterized by upland conditions. This variability is to a significantextent induced by postdepositional processes, indicating that some of the siteswithin this category may have originally fitted another category.Finds - At many sites finds have to a large extent been dislocated or displacedcompletely due to bioturbation and erosion of the covering layers. Most sitesthus can be considered palimpsests (Swifterbant S22-24, Helden-PanningenIndustrieterrein, St.-Odilinberg-Neliske). Organic remains are, furthermore,scarce due to the acidic conditions of the soil. Pottery may be affected as well.In some cases pottery and other finds are preserved more or less in situ in pits ornatural features such as depressions (e.g. Grave-Pater Bertierstraat, Nijmegen-tKlumke, Wijchen-het Vormer).

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Features - Features are partially present or wholly absent, dependent on the negativeeffects of erosion. Often the absence of finds within the features in combinationwith poorly associated 14C samples makes it difficult to attribute features to acertain period. This way virtually no or only questionable structures can be defined(e.g. St.-Odilinberg-Neliske, Helden-Panningen-industrieterrein).Potential - The variability in this category of upland sites makes it difficult todescribe them as a whole. In general they are characterized by the fact that eitherfeatures or finds suffer considerably from postdepositional processes and surfaceexposure and in some cases both. This makes it extremely difficult to interpretthese categories for themselves, let alone combine both into the analysis of asettlement or other type of site.Site function - Because of severe taphonomic disturbance these locations harboursites of different character. Both hunting locations as well as domestic sites mightbe represented, but identification of site function is often impossible.Examples wetland - Swifterbant S22-24, S11-13, Swifterbant-S61.Examples upland - Helden-Panningen-Industrieterrein, Meeuwen-Donderslagheide, Nijmegen-t Klumke, St.-Odilinberg-Neliske, Wijchen-Het Vormer.

4.5.6 Isolated sites and off-site finds

This category consists of small-scale sites and finds that are often situated ratherisolatedly in the landscape. They occur both on the uplands and in wetlands andare the material reflection of singular short-term activities, transitory camps,depositions etc.Finds - The finds at these types of sites are usually very limited (see for instancethe flint assemblage of Jardinga). Other remains such as bones might be morenumerous, but of course this also strongly relates to the function of the place and topostdepositional processes. The limited number of lithics, however, demonstratesthat the visibility of these sites in an upland context might be extremely limited.Features - In general features are not to be expected since these locations wereonly used for short periods of time. Structures or other installations related to thespecific use of a site as well as hearths form an exception however.Potential - Isolated sites and finds might yield qualitatively detailed insightsinto the short-term special activity sites employed by hunter-gatherers and earlyfarmers. These sites are, however, notoriously difficult to identify, especially inupland conditions. Furthermore the information they might generate is stronglydependent on good conditions of preservation and the absence of subsequentoccupations blurring the available resolution due to the palimpsest effect.Site function - Sites within this category are often marked by a spatially andchronologically limited congruence of finds and features. This indicates that inmost cases these sites may be interpreted as short-term camps, hunting or fishingstands, butchering sites or intentional depositions.Examples Bergschenhoek (also fits the accumulative site category), Bronneger,Jardinga, isolated axes, isolated antlers, hoards, pot burials or other intentionaldepositions.

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4.5.7 Using site templates

The introduction of site templates is not so much informative with respect to theactual prehistoric site functions as that it reflects the ways we as archaeologistsmay encounter sites and the information preserved there. Within the latterperspective site templates form reflections of the way the material derivativesof human behaviour interact with the conditions generated by the environmentand shape use or occupation types. This approach may, in some situations bemore informative than, for example, the site resolution approach (see Peeters etal. 2002, table 5, pp. 110), since the categories defined above are both descriptiveand fluid. It should be realised that under certain conditions similar sites willdevelop differently and generate a different material reflection. Furthermore, asargued earlier, and depending on the characteristics preserved, sites may fit morethan one category. These templates therefore are not intended as an absolutesubdivision. It is our task to try and define what types of sites are at the basis ofthe variability described above and how these fit into a system. The main difficultywe thereby face is the contrast between qualitatively highly informative wetlandsites as opposed to different degrees of far less informative sites, often located inthe uplands. How to deal with this discrepancy will now be discussed.

4.6 RepresentativenessIn Chapter 2 it was argued that the study of the process of Neolithisation on aEuropean scale had to some extent drifted further away from the material realityof the archaeological record. Instead of a top-down theoretical approach in whichdata is molded to fit internalist or externalist argumentation it was argued thatthe mosaic character of the transition to agriculture in Europe required an openminded, bottom-up approach within a regional perspective (see also Amkreutz/Vanmontfort 2007; Arnoldussen 2008). An important contribution to suchan approach was formed by a thorough analysis of the inferential power andconstraints of the archaeological record in the study area, involving a taphonomicreconsideration of the building blocks of our Neolithisation story, the sites.Within this analysis the archaeological record of communities in transition toagriculture within the LRA was reconsidered both from a methodological as wellas a formative perspective, addressing such diverse issues as excavation strategy,sampling traditions, theoretical paradigm, geographical diversity, bioturbation,permanency, duration and spatiotemporal collapse. This analysis, based on anumber of sites described in the catalogue, demonstrated the existence of hugequalitative and quantitative contrasts within our dataset. The Leitmotiv of thesediverging results centred on the upland-wetland bias. This bias is problematicbecause it means that we study the transition to agriculture and understand theprocess of Neolithisation through a largely unbalanced dataset.

4.6.1 Qualitative potential

From a geographical and archaeological perspective we see and understand moreof the receiving end of the process of Neolithisation, the wetland reflection andsubsequent wetland implementation of contacts and developments that also tookplace elsewhere. The importance of these wetland sites for our understanding ofthe transition to agriculture is evident (see also Nicholas 1998a,b; Van der Noort/

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OSullivan 2006) as they are able to provide more and better answers to manyissues and questions surrounding Mesolithic and Neolithic sites and the processof Neolithisation. An estimate of this difference in potential has been visualized infig. 4.13, based on the information drawn from sites in Appendix I.The attribution and subdivisions visualized in fig. 4.13 are an approximation ofreality and will be different per site studied. Nevertheless, the overall implicationsare clear and are further illustrated by the cumulative pie charts in fig. 4.14. Thesevisualize that, especially with respect to medium and high levels of information,wetlands and uplands contrast.What these figures indicate is that much of our most valuable informationfor studying the transition to agriculture in the LRA will derive from wetlandsites. On the other hand it is also clear that this contrast may be problematicin our understanding of this same process, because of the danger of a singularwetland perspective on the transition.14 For example one of the major issues inthe debate on Neolithisation is the introduction of cereals and the growing ofcrops. Geographically one might assume that the first introduction of cereals andthe experimental phase of agriculture would have taken place in the contact zonebetween the Neolithic farmers of the LBK on the one hand and the Rssen cultureon the loess and adjacent hunter-gatherers on the sandy soils on the other hand.Taphonomically, however, this is precisely the area where organic remains such ascereals and chaff and to a certain extent even pottery are not or only very poorlypreserved, pollen diagrams are regional in perspective and suffer from hiatuses(with some exceptions, see Bakker 2003a), 14C dating is often inaccurate, featuresdissipate, use wear analysis is regularly ineffective, and spatio-temporal controlis lost due to a stable surface, re-use and the absence of a cover. The evidenceprobably was there but is not anymore. What we do see is a geographically andchronologically specific version of this process. A wetland reflection, adaptationand implementation of something that, presumably, initially took shape elsewhere.This is a unique situation that not only differs from the upland counterpart to whichit is related, but is also different from other wetland situations. For Switzerlandthe prehistoric lake villages form the main source of information, also for theNeolithic. In Britain and Ireland, wetlands rather form isolated datasets, such asthe Fenlands or Glastonbury lake village. Apart from these examples valley floorlocations form additional wetland settings, often of a smaller scale such as Noyenin France. The best reference for the LRA wetlands may be found in SchleswigHolstein and Denmark, however, it is mainly the Mesolithic that is found there inwet contexts (pers. comm. Louwe Kooijmans 2005). The LRA wetlands thereforeshould be studied in their own right as a specific regional phenomenon.

4.6.2 They do things differently there?

In L.P. Hartleys novel The Go-Between (1958) the past is a foreign countrywhere they do things differently. In a way one may assume that wetlands have thesame denotation since they often have been and still are perceived as inhospitablewastelands (see Louwe Kooijmans 1997, 10-11). To what extent could thisbe true? Before we enter into this discussion some comments on the generaldivision between upland and wetland sites are in order. From a taxonomic pointof view both terms are used to pigeonhole sites, which might intrinsically bevery different. For instance the sites of Schokland-P14 and Hoge Vaart are not

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Fig. 4.13 Availability and

quality of archaeologicalcorrelates for upland andwetland sites with respectto topics of importance inunderstanding the process ofNeolithisation.

entirely comparable to donken-sites such as Hardinxveld-Polderweg or Brandwijk

(see Appendix I). During a large part of their occupation, both of the formersites were located much more in an upland environment adjacent to a wetlandwith extensive areas of dry land in their direct vicinity. This strongly contrastswith the latter sites which were located in the middle of a wetland. Nevertheless,

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none

upland

wetland

lowmediumhigh

all would usually be classified as wetland sites, because of their conditions of

preservation and adjacency to considerable bodies of water. It should thus be notedthat the distinction upland-wetland often most unambiguously is a distinctionbetween conditions of preservation (cf. supra). The archaeological, ecological andinterpretative applications, although equally valid, are often far less obvious andpositioned on a sliding scale.Wetlands as uplands?For some authors the same agents that led to the excellent preservation of sites inthese areas are also indicative of a prehistoric situation that was distinctly differentfrom any upland situation. In their view this dichotomy must have resulted inconsiderable socio-economic differences to the extent that uplands and wetlandsshould be perceived as largely incompatible entities (see for example Groenewoudt1994, 53; Nicholas 1998a, 720). In this light it is thus not useful to embark upona comparative study of wetland and upland sites.Others have, on the other hand, argued that the upland-wetland distinction ismainly a creation of our modern ethnocentric attitude and geological erudition(Louwe Kooijmans 1999, 111). The current subdivision into upland and wetlandsites, to some extent, is definitely an artificial segregation in which often no cleardistinction is made between past environment and preservation conditions (cf.supra). In this perspective the difference between wetlands and uplands is muchmore gradual with a moderate distribution between wet and dry elements (LouweKooijmans 1997, 15). Clearly there are also large bodies of water (lakes, streams,fens) in upland contexts. The argument that prehistoric communities did notsubmit or adjust to the whims of the environment but instead were governedin their choices and patterns of land use by social relations and human culture(see also Brandt 1988; Gamble 1986b) substantiates the claim that an uplandwetland divergence should not be treated as an absolute categorization. From thisperspective wetland sites, to some extent, may serve as a high resolution version ofwhat happened at upland sites.The question is how to deal with this seemingly diverging perception of therole of wetlands in relation to past behaviour? Are wetlands absolutely nonrepresentative or, on the other hand, if not illustrative, do they represent at leastpart of the wet side of a range of acceptable lifestyles (Louwe Kooijmans 1999,111).

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Fig. 4.14 Cumulative piechart counts of fig. 4.13

illustrating the informativecontrast between wetlands anduplands.

Approaching wetlandsBoth interpretations have their shortcomings in addressing the issue ofrepresentativeness. Wetlands certainly cannot be seen as backward fringe areaswhere habitation could only have had a very specialist and irregular character (e.g.Louwe Kooijmans 1997; Nicholas 1998a,b; 2007a,b; Van de Noort/OSullivan 2006).On the other hand nor should they be perceived of as only gradually different fromwhat was common on the upland, since their conditions would demand a ratherdifferent use of the environment. In the last case the specific accents of wetlandoccupation might distinctly deviate from elsewhere. A difference of degree maystill be a considerable difference when studied qualitatively.This study sets out to study communities in the LRA wetlands in the processof Neolithisation from a flexible perspective, both with respect to the occupationhistory of wetlands as well as in relation to upland developments.15 A contextfor this was offered earlier in Chapter 3, where it was argued that the debateconcerning the transition to agriculture should be injected with historicity. Inthe LRA as well as elsewhere in Europe, we are dealing with a spatial as well aschronological mosaic (cf. Tringham 2000a) of transitions and especially for theLRA wetlands no clear or simple universal or evolutionary trend is definable.Although there are distinct developments towards an agricultural economy, theprocess is gradual and the occupation history is characterized by continuity inbehaviour rooted in the hunter-gatherer world and diversity in dealing with theenvironment and resources. Different choices and combinations seem to haveexisted side by side. While this will be further discussed later on (Chapters 7-9), itmeans that a research perspective should not only focus on the adaptive qualitiesof these communities adjusting to the optimal use of their environment. It shouldalso deal with the long-term relationship between communities and environmentand the way this over time shapes types of habitation and practices characteristicof both these communities and the area.The main point to be made is that wetland developments may be studied forthe light they shed upon (archaeological patterning of ) occupation elsewhere,but simultaneously deserve an analysis and interpretation of their own, based onthe geographically and ecologically specific qualities they harbour and the wayin which they influence regionally specific behaviour, choices, habitation andidentities.

4.6.3 Wetlands as active agents?

Within the approach sketched above wetlands (both from a landscape andenvironmental perspective) are ascribed distinct qualities, which provide certainregionally specific structural conditions (see Barrett 2000 and Chapter 6).These in turn and over time confront and interact with the communities livingin these areas and will contribute in shaping community choice and culturalcharacteristics. Although we can only guess, or approach ethnographically, howthis may have taken place this perspective is based on the idea that wetlands areattributed certain formative qualities (Coles/Coles 1989). These are of importancein the organisation of groups living completely or partially in these landscapesand the way in which they negotiate and transmit community identity (Van deNoort/OSullivan 2006, 68). This approach will be theoretically anchored andfurther implemented in Chapters 6-9. These chapters will specifically focus on the

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communities in the wetlands and wetland margins. The next chapter will providean archaeological basis for this through a comparative study of the availablecontextual and artefactual evidence regarding Late Mesolithic communities inthe LRA. The chapter will deal with the degree to which these groups may haveoperated differently in different areas and to what extent this may have provideda heterogeneous substrate for the transition to agriculture.

Notes1

3 4

5 6

8 9 10

11 12

13

The actual situation is more complex and also depends on the acidity or alkalinity of waterloggedenvironments. For example acidic peat bogs preserve wood and plant remains, but may eventuallydestroy bone and even pottery. Alkaline environments on the other hand are less conducive to thepreservation of wood, plants, leather and pollen and more so to the preservation of bone and shell(see for example Coles/Coles 1989; Groenewoudt 1994; Renfrew/Bahn 1996).Many processes influence the preservation of features. Apart from cultural factors such as backfillingand secondary use, bioturbation, soil formation and erosion have a significant impact. They obscurethe extents and outline of features and often only a decapitated profile or section is preserved. Theseconsiderations warn against an uncritical interpretation of finds within features for functional ordating purposes (see also Schiffer 1987, 218-220).This term was originally used in a different context, referring to the dangers involved with thinkingin and with chronological units in the Palaeolithic (see Conkey 1985; 1987).Lucas (2005, 34-36) argues that at another level the archaeological record is never static. In fact itis always dynamic and part of a systemic context, whether below or above the ground. If it is visibleand tangible humans will have to deal with it, i.e. interact with, accept, or ignore it. It is thereforealso related to peoples perception of the past.This was also practised at recent excavations conducted by the RCE at Rijckholt-Sint-Geertruid.Personal information, author.There is evidence of severe taphonomic disturbance of features dating to this period (e.g. BurnezLanotte et al. 1996; Groenewoudt 1994; Vanmontfort 2004; see also below). Groenewoudt (1994,113) mentions the disturbing effects of bioturbation and soil formation processes leading to the gradualdisappearance of features, especially on well-drained sandy soils. Features have often disappeared orare only visible at a lower level and thus easily missed. Apart from these considerations, the totalnumber of Neolithic upland excavations, excluding the LBK, is limited (ibid. 112), indicating thatthese sites are not easily detected.The cause is mainly found in the consumption of non-terrestrial food such as fish and shellfishof marine and freshwater origin. This can be traced by measuring the levels of the stable isotopes13C and 15N in the bone collagen. The latter is often not measured (Lanting/Van der Plicht1995-1996).It must be realized that the reservoir and hard water effects affect sites in the wetlands not onlybecause of their preservation of organic remains, but also because wetland resources often formed anessential contribution to wetland subsistence and technology.See for instance the different quantitative results for the hand-picked and sieved remains of fish atSchipluiden (Brinkhuizen 2006).Where Foley (1981, 165-166) opts for introducing off-site archaeology as a conceptual counterpartfor a site approach, Dunnell (1992, 36-37) proposes to reject the archaeological concept of the sitealtogether. Instead he argues for a bottom-up approach using artefacts and their attributes as thesmallest units of (spatial) analysis. The same approach is advocated by De Loecker (2006, 8; see alsoRoebroeks et al. 1992) when he methodologically discards the site-concept in favour of a spatialdistribution of artefacts along a continuum from individual artefact to high density pattern.Binford (2002, 132) adds to this: archaeologys basic unit is the individual site, but its goal is toemploy these units to study past human behavior; and in order to accomplish this task, we need to developan appropriate methodology for identifying the role of single sites within an overall system.NOaA is the abbreviation of Nationale Onderzoeksagenda Archeologie, or National ResearchAgenda for Archaeology (for more information see http://www.noaa.nl/). The agenda is intended tospearhead and define the important goals of Dutch archaeology per time period and function as aguideline for commercial archaeology. One of the dangers of documents like these is that they arenot continually updated and eventually function in a dogmatic way achieving precisely the oppositeof what they were invented for in the first place.In relation to this it should be stressed that the public goals of disseminating information to a widerlay audience, as is laid down in the Malta law, is crucial for creating an increased understandingof the importance of archaeology for our cultural heritage in general. At the same time the roleof this audience and investors in determining the course of research or even emphases in heritage

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management on a local or regional level should be limited. Recently there have been questionableinitiatives in the commercial sector (especially within the branch of advisory companies), such asReverse archaeology that propose a stronger influence of the public and other stakeholders, such asconstruction companies and municipalities, in deciding on the emphases in archaeological fieldworkand interpretation.14 Bailey (2007) argues that within the remnant settlement patterns we reconstruct, sites representingcumulative palimpsests (i.e. the wetland sites in the LRA), achieve prominence and visibility forreasons less related to their significance to the original occupants than to the frequency of revisitingand re-use. This underlines that issues of visibility, preservation, re-use and importance operateindependently from each other.15 From an archaeological perspective we find ourselves in a somewhat paradoxical situation. On theone hand wetland sites are our most important sources of information on the development of thetransition to agriculture. Without them we would actually have hardly any information at all. Onthe other hand we should not regard them as either representative or completely divergent (cf.supra). They cannot form a template for what was going on elsewhere in upland situations. A furtherargument in this respect was brought to the fore by Binford (1992, 49) when he stressed thatfocusing on good sites alone is a lets-look-through-different-glasses approach. This way we arebound to observe new things, but will not be able solve the relationship between these and our oldproblems. How to proceed?

One way forward could be to abandon the strict distinction between good sites and bad sitesand accept that most sites within the available dataset have to some extent suffered from the sametaphonomic distortions (see Binford 1987b where he argues that deposits and excavated sites do notdiffer that much from surface sites since both have been subject to palimpsest effects. Excavated sitesare in fact buried surface collections). In this respect there are only different degrees of ugly sites. Ifthen, from a site-formative perspective there is no insuperable contrast, we might use the best sitesavailable to form a well-informed background to compare less informative sites to. For the LRA thiswill result in a situation whereby wetland sites are used to study upland sites. The beneficial aspectsof this approach are thus not to be found in the informative value of sites sensu stricto, but in thesimilarities and divergences between them. In using a comparative approach the wetland sites formreal sites for sore eyes. This perspective should, however, not interfere with analyses that approachand interpret the wetlands, their conditions and the occupational behaviour it generates from aregionally specific perspective. Whereas one approach uses wetland data in order to understandsimilar or diverging upland patterns from an archaeological and formative perspective, the otherstresses the behavioural character of communities from a regional perspective wherein geographicaland ecological conditions actively influence behaviour.

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Chapter 5

The Late Mesolithic diversity in

uniformity? The distinct regional variation which emerges in the Neolithic has its roots inthe historical traditions of regionally-based Mesolithic communities. (Armit/Finlayson 1992, 672).one cannot understand the transition without understanding the state ofhunter-gatherer adaptations that preceded it (Zvelebil/Rowley-Conwy 1984,104).

5.1 IntroductionIn order to understand the process of Neolithisation in the LRA it is important togain better insight into the preceding Late Mesolithic, since the last communitiesof hunter-gatherers living in this area formed the socio-cultural context in relationto which the transition to agriculture took place. These groups should not be seenas the uniform hunting and gathering background to the changes taking placewith the introduction of agriculture. In fact, the diversity existing within LateMesolithic groups in relation to the various landscapes they inhabited and exploitedformed a variable and heterogeneous backdrop to the process of Neolithisation.This chapter discusses different aspects of Late Mesolithic communities, basedmainly on the evidence from excavated sites and in relation to their setting inthe landscape. The aim is to analyse whether differences and similarities observedmay be interpreted as meaningful with respect to Late Mesolithic diversity andtherefore of importance to our understanding of Neolithisation in the area. Thischapter first presents a brief introduction of the Late Mesolithic chronologicaland material framework, followed by the introduction of the site-based dataset.Subsequently analysis focuses on several scaled aspects of Late Mesolithic sitesin the landscape. Finally the results will be compared and interpreted in terms ofsettlement systems and repercussions for Neolithisation.

5.2 Chronological and cultural context

As a period, the Late Mesolithic has received little attention. It is generally studiedfrom the perspective of the preceding earlier Mesolithic phases. Little is known ofMesolithic settlement systems and mobility (Cromb/Cauwe 2001, 55), althoughthese are of importance for understanding Neolithisation. The lack of attentionis caused in part by problems of identification related to taphonomy and limiteddating resolution (see Chapter 4). Recent publications of several sites with distinctLate Mesolithic occupation phases have greatly contributed to the corpus of

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

5.2.1 Mesolithic chronology

The chronological subdivision of the Mesolithic has been subject to many changes(Lanting/Van der Plicht 1997/1998, 105-112; Verhart/Groenendijk 2005, 163165), mainly relating to problems in obtaining associated 14C dates and issues oftaphonomy, such as a lack of stratified sites. This is why typo-chronology, with itscoarse-grained resolution, remains one of the main tools for the identification anddating of Mesolithic occupations (see Cromb/Cauwe 2001, 51).Previous subdivisions based on point types defined five stages of the Mesolithicin the study area (Newell 1973; Arts 1989). However, the proposed culturalgroups within these stages (e.g. the De Leijen Wartena complex) are no longerrecognized. Moreover, some implements originally regarded as chronologicallylimited proved to be in use for much longer (e.g. Arts 1989, fig. 8; Cromb 1998;1999). Finally, not all diagnostic artefact types are omnipresent. The recognitionof these problems ultimately led to a subdivision into three phases only (Verhart/Groenendijk 2005; Verhart 2008; see also Peeters/Niekus 221). While some(Lanting/Van der Plicht 1997/1998, 136) argue that the Mesolithic may solely bedivided in an early and late phase based on the absence or presence of trapezes, thesubdivision of Verhart and Groenendijk (2005, 163-165) will be followed here. Itis based on a north-south distinction between a Scandinavian-oriented Northwestgroup and a Rhine-Basin group (Gob 1985; Heinen 2006; see also Newell 1973).Chronologically, Verhart and Groenendijk (2005) distinguish between an Early,Middle and Late Mesolithic. The Early Mesolithic (c. 9200-7500 cal BC) in thesouth is mainly characterised by the A-point and the occasional use of Hesbayetype flint. In the North B-points and triangular implements are also common.The Middle Mesolithic (c. 7500-6500 cal BC) is characterised by C-points in thenorth and by C-points and implements with surface retouch (e.g. feuille de gui) inthe south. The Middle Mesolithic also sees the initial exploitation of Wommersomquartzite as a favoured raw material (see also Gendel 1984). The Late Mesolithic(c. 6500-5300/4400 cal BC) is characterised by trapezes in both the north and thesouth and by the use of Wommersom quartzite in the south.According to Verhart and Groenendijk (2005, 163-164) the adjacent Rhinelandsequence (cf. Arora 1976) and the Belgian subdivision (Gob 1981) largely overlapwith their sequence (see e.g. Arora 1976; Ducroq 2001; Gob 1981; Vanmontfort2008a).While the tripartite division and general north-south distinction retain theirvalue as a framework, it should be mentioned that a number of factors mayinfluence our perception, both chronologically and regionally. These include thelongevity of certain tool types, regional typological groups with a specific materialexpression, functional choices and stylistic variation as well as social aspects suchas identity markers (e.g. Cromb 1998; 1999; 2002; Fischer 1989; Lovis et al.2006b; Perdaen et al. 2008; Vermeersch 1984; Wiessner 1983).1

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5.2.2 Lithic characteristics

From a lithic and material perspective the Late Mesolithic is characterised bythe use of trapezes. In the southern part of the LRA, points with surface retouchremain in use (see Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; Heinen 2006), a regular blade-basedtechnology is used (Montbani-style) and part of the tools are made of Wommersomquartzite. The northern variant is mainly characterised by broad blades and trapezes,narrow triangles, the absence of surface retouch and Wommersom quartzite, andthe occurrence of Gerllkeulen (albeit rarely in closed assemblages).Since trapezes first occurred between 7000 and 6500 cal BC and in the LowCountries from c. 6500 cal BC onwards (Verhart 2008, 172) their temporalsignificance is limited. Newell (1973) and Groenendijk (1997) suggested that broadtrapezes may be younger than narrow trapezes, but separating them metrically hasproven unsuccessful (Peeters et al. 2001; but see Niekus 2005/2006, 81).Another possible distinction (at least in the south of the LRA) is that betweenunretouched trapezes and (assymetrical) trapezes or triangles with retouched basesor flat inverse retouch (retouche inverse plate or RIP). Gehlen (2006) arguesthat these points may be indicative of La Hoguette assemblages. Others (Heinen2006, 79-80; Manen/Mazuri de Keroualin 2003, 124) argue that RIP pointsare predominantly present in the area of the Rechtsflgler (cf. Lhr 1994) westof the Rhine and Meuse, an area associated with the Limburg group. The RIPtechnique seems to have developed shortly after 6000 cal BC among the localRhine-Meuse-Scheldt (RMS) groups, although its origins may lie with the leftlateralized trapezoids of southern France (Heinen 2006, 80; see also Lanting/Vander Plicht 1997/1998). Within the LRA, assemblages exhibiting the RIP techniquehave incidentally been classified as the Ruiterskuil group (Cromb 1998). Aroundthe middle of the 6th millennium (cal BC), the RMS groups produced a newform of assymetrical point, known as Danubian style or LBK-like points (sensuLhr 1994), falling within the larger group of pointes or armatures evolues (seeHeinen 2006, 80). These point types may be indicative of contacts with the LBK(see Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; Lhr 1994; Heinen 2006; Vanmontfort 2007).A typical site with such an evolved assemblage is Weelde-Paardsdrank (Huyge/Vermeersch 1982). This type of point may also have been recovered at the site ofPolderweg (Louwe Kooijmans 2003), apart from at least one classical LBK point(see De Grooth 2008, 225). It is not clear whether the LBK-like points evolvedout of trapezes with RIP or out of other asymmetrical points such as Bavanspoints (Heinen 2006). Similarly, it is not known whether the slightly larger pointsof the LBK itself were an inspiration for or a result of this development. Thesometimes striking resemblance and contemporaneous dates of both seem toindicate some form of contact between the LBK and local Mesolithic groups (seeRobinson 2008; 2010). Heinen (2006) even argues that the later RMS groupswere the producers of Limburg ware (cf. infra). The evidence for this is howeverunconvincing, mainly because of problems of association (see also Otte/Noiret2006, 98; Vermeersch 2006).Although the typo-chronological developments of the Late Mesolithic are stillpoorly understood, it is clear that with the advent of the LBK farmers in thearea some changes took place (see Vanmontfort 2008a). There may have beendifferences between earlier Late Mesolithic groups and those in contact withfarmers. The RIP technique seems emblematic for this contact phase. It should

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thus be considered to which extent a further subdivision of the Late Mesolithic

(analogous to French and German chronologies) in a Late Mesolithic and a FinalMesolithic would be an appropriate improvement.2

5.2.3 The end of the Late Mesolithic

While the Late Mesolithic may generally be described as characterised by a trapezebased industry and starting around 6500 cal BC, its end date, 5300/4400 calBC (Verhart 2008; Verhart/Groenendijk 2005), offers a range of approximately athousand years. This period is characterised by a number of (partly synchronous)developments that are geographically distinct, yet not entirely exclusive. Thesewill be briefly introduced below.It is important to note that our classification of developments strongly dependson our definition of Mesolithic, Neolithic and Neolithisation (see Chapters 2and 3). While the economic contribution (of domesticates and cultigens) hasbecome an important factor in distinguishing between Mesolithic and Neolithic(cf. Zvelebil/Rowley-Conwy 1984), it was argued earlier (Chapter 3) that multiplefactors may determine to what extent we are dealing with Mesolithic or Neolithiccommunities in a social and developmental sense. This should be viewed againstthe backdrop of a regional ecological context and in relation to the geographicaldiversity existing within the settlement system (see also Chapters 7-8) and differsfrom the chronological discussion. A good example is the fact that in the Dutchchronology the first use of pottery around 5100 cal BC is recognized as markingthe start of the Swifterbant culture, which later on also sees the introductionof domesticates and cultigens. The early part of this culture is however bestcharacterised as a ceramic Mesolithic (Louwe Kooijmans 2001a, 445; 2007a, 296).This would be similar to the earlier use of this terminology for the ceramic phase ofthe Erteblle culture and in line with the interpretation of Swifterbant as a FinalMesolithic in Belgium (Cromb/Vanmontfort 2007, fig. 10). Economically, animportant distinction is the appearance of domesticates in the Swifterbant faunalspectra, occurring between 4700 and 4450 cal BC in the southern part of the LRAand around 4200 further north (Louwe Kooijmans 2007a, 297) and the degreeto which domesticates and cultigens contribute to subsistence. We are thereforedealing with a shifting and multi-dimensional transition between the Mesolithicand Neolithic (see Van den Broeke et al. 2005, 30; see Chapter 3), the intrinsicaspects of which should be clearly defined. A general framework may be sketchedfrom south to north.

5.2.3.1 Early Neolithic developments in the loess zone (5300-4900

cal BC)The Neolithic in the LRA begins with the appearance of the LBK in the Rhinelandand adjacent Belgian loess area, from c. 5300 cal BC onwards (Lanting/Vander Plicht 1999/2000, 13-14). Evidence of interaction between these farmingcommunities and indigenous hunter-gatherers exists in the form of contact-finds(e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2003). This suggests that an availability phase (cf. Zvelebil1986a) started. Although the direct impact of the appearance of LBK farmers onthe regional Late Mesolithic population remains unknown, it is plausible that

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the Siedlungskammer along the southern limits of the LRA over time, althoughperhaps not initially (see Vanmontfort 2008a), acted as hubs around which theprocess of Neolithisation evolved and intensified.Both the material records of the LBK and Late Mesolithic (if present) do nottestify to important changes. Perhaps some of the developments taking place atthe end of the LBK, such as the less rigid approach to settlement location choice(Amkreutz 2010a), testify to increased forager-farmer interaction. Others, suchas Golitko and Keeley (2007) argue that the increase in fortifications (Erdwerke)and burial traumata at the end of the LBK also distinctly relate to conflicts withindigenous hunter-gatherers.3Forager-farmer interaction may also have helped to shape the transformationstaking place at the end of and after the LBK. For the east a development may besketched that involves a transformation of LBK into Grossgartach and later Rssencommunities, entailing distinct changes in settlement pattern, site location choice,distribution networks, house traditions, crops etc. (Dohrn-Ihmig 1983; Stehli1989). In the west the Blicquy group points to similar albeit less marked changes(e.g. Jadin 2003; see also Robinson 2010). It should be noted though that evidenceis meagre. In the LRA currently only an evolved Rssen settlement at MaastrichtRandwijck is known. There is also evidence of hiatuses both in the Rhineland andthe Belgian Hainaut loess area between the LBK and subsequent groups whichcontrasts with the continuity witnessed in their respective source areas in theUpper Rhine Plain and Paris Basin (Villeneuve-Saint-Germain culture). This mayimply that instead of developments taking place in relation to interaction, areaswere probably also temporarily abandoned.Limburg and La Hoguette wareApart from the developments outlined above there are two additional phenomena,that may represent actors in the transition between the Late Mesolithic andNeolithic in the southern part of the LRA. These are groups with Limburg andLa Hoguette ware. Both have been hypothesized to be spatially and temporallyrelated aspects of indigenous traditions in contact with the LBK (Constantin et al.2010; Louwe Kooijmans 1998a; Raemaekers 1999, 138). A related phenomenonis Begleitkeramik of La Hoguette which is found both in isolation and in relationto La Hoguette ware (Brounen/Hauzeur 2010).Over time our knowledge regarding these groups and the degree to which theymay be regarded as independent entities has increased, especially with respect tothe La Hoguette group (e.g. Manen/Mazuri de Keroualin 2003), for which anindependent nature and even a pastoral economy have been suggested (Kalis et al.2001). However, at the moment it not possible to further define the exact role ofthese groups in relation to both the LBK and Late Mesolithic. The presence ofthese groups suggests that the characteristics of the period in the southern part ofthe LRA were not exclusively the result of interaction and developments betweenthe LBK and its successors (Grossgartach, Blicquy, Rssen) and an indigenousLate Mesolithic population but that other actors were involved as well (Amkreutzet al. 2009).4

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5.2.3.2 Neolithic developments on the coversand and in the Meuse

valley (5300-4200 cal BC)While evidence for interaction and change in the Late Mesolithic remains limited,the evidence of contact finds such as points, adzes and later Breitkeile suggestsincreased interaction between foragers and farmers in the early fifth millennium.For the zone north of the loess a distribution of LBK finds up to 30 km from thesettlement area has been documented (Van der Graaf 1987). A number of sitesyielding Limburg, La Hoguette and Begleitkeramik pottery has been documentedin the Meuse valley and coversand area. For Limburg ware the most indicative siteis Kesseleik (Modderman 1974). For La Hoguette and Begleitkeramik a numberof sites has been discovered away from the loess (e.g. Venlo-Ossenberg; IttervoortDamszand; Gassel-Over de Voort), along the Meuse valley, into the riverinedistrict and beyond (Ede-Frankeneng; see Brounen/Hauzeur 2010; Brounen et al.2010). The later distribution of Breitkeile shows an expansion which ranges muchfarther north and cannot be attributed to expeditions alone (Raemaekers et al.2011; Verhart 2012; Van der Waals 1972). The paucity of finds further to the westis remarkable in this respect (Vanmontfort 2008b; Verhart 2003), and probablyrelates to source areas and networks of transport and distribution. While theseobjects signal contact and interaction with farmers of the Rssen culture in andaround the Rhineland loess area, their impact upon these communities and withrespect to Neolithisation remains difficult to establish. Since evidence for the firstdomestic animals at Hardinxveld dates between 4700 and 4450 cal BC (LouweKooijmans 2007a), it is plausible that, in terms of the availability and substitutionphases as modelled by Zvelebil and Rowley-Conwy (1984), this shifting frontier(see also Zvelebil 1998a) should be interpolated at an earlier date for the southerncoversand area and Meuse valley (see also Vanmontfort 2008b, 91).The nature of the developments with respect to Neolithisation in the coversandarea and Meuse valley is difficult to establish. It is not known to what extent theoffspring of the first farmers in the loess zone directly shaped the character of theNeolithisation of the coverand area further north, or whether there were hiatusesin occupation after which subsequent Neolithic groups (of Grossgartach, Blicquyor later affinity) re-settled the area, nor to what extent the indigenous Mesolithicpopulation played an active role. The developments between 4900 and 4200 calBC are largely unknown for the southern part of the LRA. What is known is thatfrom c. 4200 cal BC, in the Rhineland, Belgian loess region and over large partsof the coversand area up to the riverine district, sites of the Michelsberg cultureappear (Louwe Kooijmans 1976a; Schreurs 2005; Vanmontfort 2004; Verhart2000). The characteristics of this culture are different from those of the LBK, interms of material (pottery, flint), houses, its largely ephemeral settlement system,which, however, did include flint mines and enclosures, and to some extent itseconomy (new emphases in crops types, use of different soil types). Based on thesecharacteristics it has been proposed that the MK economy and settlement systemwas more versatile and less rigid than that of the preceding Early Neolithic LBK.It might have been easier for indigenous hunter-gatherers to adopt this system(see also Cromb/Vanmontfort 2007; Thomas 1988; Vanmontfort 2004; 2007).For the southern part of the LRA we are clearly dealing with both RhinelandMichelsberg influences for the east and developments originating in the FrenchChassen in the west (Louwe Kooijmans 1976a; Vanmontfort 2004; Schreurs

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2005), it is argued that the indigenous population may have formed an importantfactor in the formation of regional variants of both, such as the Spiere Group inwestern Flanders (Vanmontfort 2007; 2008b, 93). The MK in the southern part ofthe LRA may then represent a melting pot outcome of Neolithisation.

5.2.3.3 The Swifterbant culture in the wetlands and wetland margins

(5100-3700 cal BC)A third development is of a more indigenous nature and involves the developmentof Late Mesolithic communities into the early Swifterbant culture. As a startingdate the first appearance of indigenous pottery is recorded at Polderweg andslightly later at Hoge Vaart between 5100 and 5000 cal BC (Louwe Kooijmans2001a; 2010a; Peeters 2007). Swifterbant sites have been documented in thewetland areas of the LRA, including the central river district, the current centralDutch polders (Raemaekers 1999), the Scheldt Basin (Cromb (ed.) 2005a) andaround Lake Dmmer in Lower Saxony (Kampffmeyer 1991). It is difficult toestimate to what extent the adjacent wetland margins and coversand area werepart of its residential occupation as well (see Niekus 2009) due to taphonomicfactors (see Chapter 4), but it may be argued that the majority of the evidencepoints to wetland-oriented communities.As argued above, the appearance of pottery forms only a material change.We are in fact dealing with a ceramic Mesolithic (Louwe Kooijmans 2001a,445). Pottery traditions should not be seen as a derivate of agriculture, but as anindicator of changed habits in food preparation, independent of the introductionof domesticates (Louwe Kooijmans/Vanmontfort 2010, 209). Within the LRA theintroduction of pottery technology in Late Mesolithic communities, in addition toimports of flint and adzes, formed the first step of a specific Swifterbant trajectoryof Neolithisation which, in a later stage, would incorporate domesticates andcultigens. Between 4700 and 4450 cal BC the first domesticated animals appearat Hardinxveld-De Bruin, while the evidence for crop plants (consumptionand possible cultivation) dates to the middle phase of the Swifterbant culture,at Swifterbant-S3, between c. 4300 and 4100 cal BC (Out 2009; Raemaekers1999).

5.2.3.4 Simultaneous developments

The three developments sketched above indicate that the process of Neolithisationin the LRA is diverse. These were not isolated processes, but interconnectedtrajectories. Examples include the early appearance of an LBK arrowhead atHardinxveld-Polderweg, and Blicquy-like pottery at Hardinxveld-De Bruin(Louwe Kooijmans 2003). Louwe Kooijmans (2010a) also argues for a southerninspiration in explaining the origins of Swifterbant pottery. Others have pointedout the existence of imports and even bricolage in the material repertoire of theSwifterbant culture (Raemaekers 1999). Similarly, recent excavations at sites suchas Doel-Deurganckdok and Bazel-de Sluis (see Appendix I) in the Scheldt valleydemonstrate a spatial convergence of Mesolithic, Early and Middle Neolithicelements, including Swifterbant ware at Doel. At this moment, however, many ofthe processes behind the material derivates of interaction that took place in theearly 5th millennium remain obscure.

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Despite the limitations, two broad trends may be sketched. A first onedeveloped in the loess area and involves a relatively quick appearance of theNeolithic through the arrival of the LBK. The degree of continuity of this traditioninto the first centuries of the fifth millennium and the nature of interaction withthe Late Mesolithic is not well determined. However, around 4200 cal BC theMiddle Neolithic MK may be interpreted as largely representing the completionof Neolithisation in the loess area, the adjacent coversand landscape, the Meusevalley and several locations in the Scheldt valley (e.g. Vanmontfort 2008b, 91).The other trend involves the largely indigenous development of the Swifterbantculture and subsequent Hazendonk group and Vlaardingen culture, rooted in theLate Mesolithic (see also Louwe Kooijmans 1998a) and mainly oriented on thewetlands and wetland margins between the Scheldt valley and the Elbe.One of the keys to understanding the differences in the developments inNeolithisation is a better understanding of the Late Mesolithic substrate. This, incombination with the specific constraints and possibilities offered by the naturalenvironment and distance to the Neolithic source areas, may explain part of thetrajectories of Neolithisation in the LRA. The remainder of this chapter is aimedat broadening our understanding of these communities by studying a number ofinterrelated aspects of Late Mesolithic sites.

5.3 Late Mesolithic sites in the LRA

In total 41 Late Mesolithic sites have been selected. These are presented in table5.1 and in fig. 5.1. The selection is not exhaustive. The main focus is on excavatedsites with sufficient contextual information to isolate a Late Mesolithic phaseof occupation and/or assemblage. Other sites have only been included if theyprovided sufficient indications for a Late Mesolithic attribution in combinationwith additional information, for instance regarding geographical distribution. Siteswith a distinct early Neolithic La Hoguette, Limburg or Begleitkeramik componenthave not been included in the list (e.g. Bracht-Brggen, Echt-Annendaal-HVR 183,Ede-Frankeneng, Gassel-Over de Voort, Kesseleik-Keuperheide, Koningsbosch,Linne-Mortelshof-HVR 16, Posterholt-Vinke-HVR 39, Sweikhuizen-de Hei).Although these are potentially contemporaneous with (part of ) the Late Mesolithicdistribution of sites, there is little qualitative information regarding their role. Formore detailed information see Appendix I.In the light of the palimpsest problem (Bailey 2007; Chapter 4) the choicefor excavated sites is evident. While this does not rule out material admixtureof other periods - most excavated sites are of course also time-averaged surfacecollections - it does limit these effects considerably when compared to surfacesites. It also offers more control over the spatial dimensions of the settlement andthe composition of the lithic assemblage. On the other hand, as may be seen infig. 5.1, the focus on excavated sites does provide a geographically skewed dataset.This relates to different factors. The paucity of Late Mesolithic sites in the loessarea, for instance, may both be a reflection of actual settlement patterns (theHolocene oak-lime forest being largely unattractive for hunting game), as wellas relate to problems of identification, such as erosion of the terrace edges (e.g.Vanmontfort 2008a; Verhart/Groenendijk 2005, 237, 244). The large numberof sites in the southern coversand landscape and the Meuse valley on the otherhand is the result of their occurrence at or near the surface, facilitating discovery,

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in combination with intensive research programmes such as the Meuse valley

project (Verhart 2000) and Leuven Universitys intensive focus on the Campinearea (Verhart/Groenendijk 2005, 236). The limited number of sites situated inwetland areas is mostly the result of limited access, due their burial beneath thicklayers of sediment, sites such as Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin forming rareexceptions that also accentuate the absence of an organic component at the otherlocations (Louwe Kooijmans 2003). Processes of sedimentation, in combinationwith erosion, also limited the chance of discovery of sites in the Holoceneparts of North Holland, Friesland and Groningen (Peeters/Niekus 2005, 204).Another reason is the dynamic coastline obscuring evidence of habitation (see alsoRaemaekers 2003).Unfortunately the available dataset cannot be considered representative for thewhole of the Late Mesolithic occupation in the LRA. Nonetheless, it is the best wehave and the distribution of sites does, to a certain extent, allow for comparisonbetween sites and groups of sites. It should be noted that the results shouldbe interpreted as tentative indications of the characteristics of Late Mesolithicoccupation that may change as more excavated sites become available. This isespecially the case in areas for which only a limited number of sites is available.

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Fig. 5.1 Map of the LRA

with the Late Mesolithic sitespresented in table 5.1. Themain LBK settlement clustersare shown by shading.

5.3.1 Geographical and ecological background

In order to compare the similarities and differences of the sites selected anddocumented, also in relation to their attribution to groups (see below), it isnecessary to briefly sketch the regional geographical and ecological characteristicsand context.

5.3.1.1 Southern coversand landscape

The southern Pleistocene upland coversand landscape group incorporates theBelgian and Dutch Campine area, where most sites are situated. The landscapeis characterised by a sand-blown topography. Deposition dates to the Saalian andmainly Weichselian glacials (see Van Gijssel/Van der Valk 2005, 54-58; see alsoVos et al. (eds) 2011, maps 9000 and 5500 cal BC), often with dune complexesor ridges that are bordered by meres (Dutch: vennen or peat fens). These arewet depressions (e.g. Vanmontfort et al. 2010b, 33) that are mainly ombrogenous(rain fed), which contrasts with the meres in the more western sandy Flandersregions which are geogenous, receiving most water from the regional water tableand additional sources (see Robinson 2010, 36). The Younger Dryas was a periodof major dune formation (Vermeersch/Huyge 1982). These dune complexes areoften situated on top of Pleistocene gravels and sands (e.g. Creemers/Vermeersch1986; Luypaert et al. 1993; Vermeersch et al. 1974 ) with height differences ofseveral meters (see Appendix I). The landscape is further characterised by brookvalleys and bordered to the east by the Meuse valley.Vegetation development at the onset of the Holocene saw a reappearance of dryforest dominated by birch and later pine and hazel in the Preboreal. Hazel expandedrapidly in the Boreal, followed by deciduous trees such as oak (Quercus) and elm(Ulmus) (Cromb et al. 2011b, 456). Of importance for the Late Mesolithic is thedevelopment of an Atlantic climax vegetation (Quercetum mixtum) from c. 7000 calBC on drier grounds with alder in the wetter parts (ibid.; Van Gijssel/Van der Valk2005, fig. 3.11). At that time, the Early Atlantic, the forest was already relativelydense. At Meeuwen, for instance, palynological data from the mere indicates thatthere was a heavily forested environment upon the transition to the Atlantic. Thismainly consisted of pine (Pinus), birch (Betula) and hazel (Corylus). Also presentwere lime (Tilia), elm and oak. Herbaceous plant pollen and spores of ferns pointto wetter parts. Alder (Alnus) and lime appeared and increased from the BorealAtlantic transition (Bubel, 2002/2003, 318). At Opglabbeek pollen samples takenfrom under clusters of hearthstones are indicative of an Early or Mid-Atlanticforested environment (Vermeersch et al. 1974, 99-100). The developments thatstarted during the early Atlantic continued throughout the Atlantic period. In thecourse of the Atlantic species such as oak, lime, elm and hazel increasingly formedthe most important components of the upland forests (see Van Gijssel/Van derValk 2005, fig. 3.12). Alder and herbaceous plants grew in the wetter parts.There is slight evidence for some open areas. Huyge and Vermeersch (1982,143, 189) for instance indicate the existence of an open lime woodland withhazel and ivy for Weelde at the end of the Atlantic (see also Munaut 1967, 51).Furthermore, a large-scale study by Svenning (2002, 137) in northwestern Europepoints to the existence of heath and grassland in more infertile areas such as onpoor sandy soils. While the former example may point to Neolithic agriculturalintervention, Svenning also points to large herbivores and fire as ways of managing

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open areas, but concludes that in most of northwestern Europe closed forests wouldhave dominated. While the possible existence of some open areas, for instancecreated by wind falls (gap theory) and the role of herbivores should not be ignoredin interpreting the composition and diversity of this forested region, the overallarchaeological and palaeo-ecological evidence points to a forested environment(see Louwe Kooijmans 2012a; see also Van den Bremt et al. 1998; Sommer etal. 2011). It is plausible that zones with increased bio-diversity in this type oflandscape the meres and brook valleys would form the most attractive areas,hosting resources such as wildlife, flora and water. This is substantiated by theidea that the closed canopy forests of the Atlantic were relatively unattractive tolarger mammals and species such as aurochs, roe deer, red deer and wild boar,due to, among others, a lack of undergrowth (see Groenendijk 1997; Svenning2002; Verhart/Groenendijk 2005, 237). This would make more open zones suchas forest edges and places with open water attractive (see Cromb et al. 2011b, 467and references).

5.3.1.2 Northern coversand landscape

The northern upland coversand and southern coversand landscape are comparable,in that they are shaped to a significant extent by coversand deposition. Thesystems of the Hunze, Tjonger, IJssel, Overijsselse Vecht and Eem form the majorwatercourses (Peeters/Niekus 2005, 202). A difference is the presence of morainedeposits in the subsoil, particularly of the Frisian-Drenthe boulder clay plateauwhere most sites are situated. The Saalian ice advance covering the area resulted inthe formation of the plateau and boulder clay outcrops. The occurrence of periglacial phenomena such as lakes and the many pingo scars on the Drenth plateaudate to the Weichselien (Van Gijssel/Van der Valk 2005, 54-57).The impermeable qualities of the subsoil already led to some peat formationin the Preboreal, but in the course of the Atlantic the rise in sea level furtherinfluenced the landscape and groundwater levels of the northern Netherlands.This may have led to peat formation and an increasing wettening of the landscape(Peeters/Niekus 2005, 202-203). It should, however, be noted that this took placemainly from the Middle Atlantic period onwards (between c. 6000 and 5000 calBC) and predominantly affected the coastal areas and water systems, althoughit also encroached on the coversand area (Berendsen 2005, 73-82, Groenendijk1997). To what extent areas such as the Drenthe-Frisian boulder clay plateau wereaffected is not well known (Peeters/Niekus 2005, 203; see also Van Gijssel/Vander Valk 2005, 62, 63 and 68). If we compare the northern coversand area toits southern counterpart (see for example the palaeogeographical map 5500 calBC; Vos et al.(eds) 2011, 43) then a considerable part of the northern coversandlandscape is low-lying, making it susceptible to changes in groundwater level asa result of the rise in sea level (-9 m below NAP around 5500 cal BC; pers.comm. Louwe Kooijmans 2012).The area as a whole is characterised more bysmall stream valleys and incipient peat formation. It is, however, likely that theseare differences of degree, since the southern coversand landscape is characterisedby peat fens or meres and small stream valleys as well.The Atlantic vegetation history and development of the northern coversandlandscape is largely comparable to that of the southern coversand area (cf. supra),with forests consisting of oak and hazel and other tree types such as elm and ash

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and alder in the wetter parts (see also Arts 1989, fig. 5; Niekus 2005/2006, 43).It is not clear to what extent the rising sea levels and increase in peat formation(and the development of sphagnum) affected occupation further inland. Earlier(see Newell 1973; Arts 1989) it has been suggested that the loss of land due tomarine transgression would have led to an (up to threefold) increase in Mesolithicbands that were being pushed inland. Recent research based on radiocarbondates, sea level curves and coastlines reveals no indications for an increase inpopulation during the later Mesolithic (Niekus 2005/2006, 80).5 There does,however, appear to be a shift in the Early Atlantic from the higher Pleistocenesandy soils (most notably the Veenkolonin area) towards the wetter parts of thelandscape, predominantly the stream valleys. This may (partially) relate to thedevelopment of climax vegetation that was relatively unattractive to large game,although this may have been relatively small-scale and additional factors may havebeen influential as well (Niekus 2005/2006, 80-82). Similar developments havebeen put forward by Cromb et al. (2011b) with regard to Mesolithic and FinalMesolithic land-use and environmental change in northwest Belgium (see alsoVanacker et al. 2001).

5.3.1.3 Western wetlands and wetland margin

Compared to the coversand landscapes, the wetland area is of a different nature. TheLate Mesolithic sites located in these wetland contexts are situated in the ScheldtBasin, the Alblasserwaard region, the Swifterbant area and in the wetland-uplandborder region. This indicates that they are situated in or adjacent to (developing)wetlands. Around 10.000 BP (9000 cal BC) the sea level was still 40-50 metersbelow NAP. A large part of the North Sea basin lay dry. At the start of the Atlantic,2000 years later, the present coastline came into existence as the sea encroachedever further inland (cf. De Mulder et al. 2003, 216-217; Van Gijssel/Van derValk 2005, 66-68). This transgression of the North Sea and the related rise of thegroundwater level mainly affected the lower lying areas such as the central riverdistrict, the IJsselmeer Basin and the northern parts of the provinces of Frieslandand Groningen. These areas may be characterised as sedimentation basins underinfluence from both the sea and river systems from the hinterland (De Mulderet al. 2003, 16; Zagwijn 1986, 27). A number of coastal and fluvial wetlandlandscapes came into existence that were buried or eroded again as the influenceof the sea expanded, shifting the entire system further to the east (Berendsen1997, 153-180; Louwe Kooijmans 1985, 25-28; Van Gijssel/Van der Valk 2005,66-68). These gradients became more or less fixed as sea levels decreased at theonset of the Subboreal (c. 4050 cal BC; Gehasse 1995, 194).The character of the wetlands differed from east to west. The riverine areaformed a dynamic environment of deposition and erosion contrasting withextensive bodies of Pleistocene upland to the north and south. West of this area,wetlands comprising riverine elements as well as lakes are characterised by afreshwater peat environment, while further west brackish estuarine conditionsexisted and even further west a landscape characterised by salt marshes andtidal flats (see map 5500 BC, in Vos et al.(eds) 2011; Van Gijssel/Van der Valk2005). In the IJsselmeer basin and the Scheldt valley similar conditions existedwith water and peat formation forming an increasingly important feature of thelandscape. The landscape of the Swifterbant area can be characterised as a tidal

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area with creeks, levees and backswamps (Ente 1976; Hacquebord 1976; DeRoever 2004). The Scheldt valley becomes increasingly characterised by alder carrand peat growth during the Atlantic, turning the area next to the river into apeat fen (Cromb 2005b; Louwagie/Langohr 2005). Occupation in or near these(developing) wetlands usually occurred on higher elevations such as river dunes.In the Alblasserwaard area these are named donken and some 80 have beendocumented. These are the outcropping tips of river dunes of Pleistocene originforming the dry elements in what must have appeared an archipelagic setting(see Verbruggen 1992b, 119; see also Louwe Kooijmans/Verbruggen 2011). Riverdunes were also occupied in the Swifterbant area, while the landscape borderingthe Scheldt is characterised as coversand with Late Glacial dunes (Louwagie/Langohr 2005). Other raised landscape elements in the wetland margin includecoversand ridges (see for instance Hoge Vaart or Maaspoort, Appendix I).The ecological characteristics of the wetland area differ distinctly from thecoversand landscape. For the central river area a variety of ecotones and plantcommunities in mosaic-like patterns is postulated (Out 2009, 50). The drier partsfeatured deciduous lime/oak woodland, while the wetter areas were characterisedby softwood alluvial woodland vegetation, alder carr, marsh and river bankvegetation. As water levels increased the dunes became smaller and the oak limevegetation gradually became replaced by a typical marsh forest (ibid., Bakels/VanBeurden 2001). Similar developments may be postulated for the Swifterbant areawith a rough distinction between more deciduous woodland in the higher area andan alder carr vegetation in the wetter areas (for more details: Casparie et al.1977;Van Zeist-Palfenier-Vegter 1981; Out 2009, 177). In the Scheldt valley aroundDoel the wetter parts are also characterised by an alder and sedge vegetation,developing into a fen carr in the Late Atlantic (DeForce et al. 2005, 121, 124-126;DeForce et al. 2013).These wetlands provide a rich habitat for flora and wildlife (e.g. Bakels 2005;Louwe Kooijmans 2003; Nicholas 1998a,b; 2007a,b; Out 2009; Van der Noort/OSullivan 2006). This includes specific wetland species such as waternut andtubers of (white) lily, as well as otters, beavers, fish and waterfowl (e.g. LouweKooijmans 1993a; Zeiler 1997). It is evident that the importance of these aquaticresources should not be underestimated. From an economical and functionalperspective these were very rich environments that differed from uplandenvironments both quantitatively and qualitatively (e.g. Nicholas 2007a; Van derNoort/OSullivan 2006). Despite their internal dynamics they offered a relativelystable and bountiful environment for occupation.

5.3.1.4 River valley/valley floor

River valleys form a final category that is partially regionally defined as well asgeographically. It includes four sites with a riverside or stream valley setting. Theselocations are directly associated with a stream or river (instead of being located ona higher feature in the landscape as is often the case in the group of wetland sites).In two cases this involved the larger valley of the Meuse at or near Lige, in onecase the nearby tributary of the Amblve and in another Jardinga on the banks ofthe Tjonger. Although the valleys have older origins, the sediments mainly consistof Holocene deposits of gravels, loam and sandy loam (see Appendix I).

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Recently, archaeological attention has re-focused on river and stream valley

locations, both in the Netherlands and abroad (Bell et al. 2006; Rensink 2004;Stoepker 1997). It is evident that potential past motivations for settling next torivers and streams focused in part on the advantages this offered with respect tothe diversity of wildlife, botanical resources and water. In this respect these zonesare comparable to the wetlands (see Cromb/Cauwe 2001, 50), their floodplains,and especially the riparian areas forming the more important ecotones in thelandscape (see also Brown 1997, Chapter 4). For the Atlantic period in particularthe river valley environment and associated flora forms a diversification within the(loess and coversand) landscape (see Bakels 1978). This not only concerns the widerange of plant and animals typical for these types of aquatic or riverside settings,but in particular also other animals that are drawn to it. River valleys are thuselements of diversification in the landscape whose richness may provide a bufferfunction. As with the wetland and wetland margin settings mentioned earlierthe importance of aquatic resources and transport should not be underestimated(Ames 2002; Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 2007).The rationale behind this category is mainly based on the notion that theoccupation of locations adjacent to running water form a characteristic choicein occupation location and potentially a logical complementary counterpart in aregional settlement system. This is governed by the presence of running water andthe possibilities it offers. These sites are located in energetic environments, whichmay impede discovery, either because of complete or partial erosion or subsequentsedimentation (e.g. Brown 1997; Gifford 1978; Schiffer 1987; Sommer 1991).From a geological and ecological point of view these locations should not betreated as partes pro toto. Their development, character and scale might differ perriver floodplain and stream valley.

5.3.2 Sites and groups

Having introduced the selected sites (fig. 5.1) and the regional geographical andecological context, the former may be categorized in four groups and a number ofexceptions to these. The groups are of a regional character (and hence related tothe geographical and ecological context provided above). This does not mean thatall site location settings are comparable, only that there are similarities in theirmutual backgrounds.The division in groups is not used as an absolute distinction, but as a frameworkfor comparison. This can only be done when the internal variation within thegroups and the exceptions are taken into account. The validity of the groups istherefore variable and this implies that there are also sites that do not fit theprofile exactly.The southern coversand landscape group is quantitatively and qualitativelythe most coherent and consistent, with seventeen sites, two consisting of multiplelocations, in largely comparable settings. The northern coversand landscapegroup has a quantitatively smaller data-set, comprising six sites situated in diversesite settings with one consisting of multiple locations. The western wetlandsand wetland margin is formed by twelve sites, including some with multiplelocations. Sites in this group are situated in a distinct wetland setting such as bothHardinxveld locations, but also include the Swifterbant river dune sites and HogeVaart, locations that are situated in a landscape that is gradually becoming more

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wet. The valley floor or river valley group consists of three sites in the ArdennesMeuse area with a comparable river valley setting. Additionally the special activitysite of Jardinga was placed in this group because of its brook valley setting.The division in groups is based on regional arguments and, in one case, theriver valley group Jardinga site. Below a brief summary of the group characteristicsis presented, followed by a discussion of the exceptions or difficult attributionsper group.

5.3.2.1 Group 1: southern coversand

This group is characterised by sites situated on elevations such as coversand dunesand ridges on the southern Pleistocene coversand landscape. These sites are oftenlocated in the vicinity of meres or peat fens (Dutch: vennen) or small streams. Allof the sites selected for this group generally fit this classification. Although thereare of course internal differences in site size, duration and composition of featuresand finds, the overall characteristics are homogeneous and comparable.

5.3.2.2 Group 2: northern coversand

Sites in this group are situated on dunes, ridges and other outcrops (e.g. boulderclay) in the northern coversand landscape. Most known sites are situated on theFrisian-Drenth boulder clay plateau. There is some difference in the site settingsthat will be discussed below. Since the number of sites in this group is muchmore limited the resulting image is more heterogeneous compared to that of thesouthern coversand landscape, although differences between occupation in bothtypes of landscape may be more of degree rather than kind (see also landscapecharacterisation description above).Marinberg-SchaapskooiThis site is part of the group of sites on the northern coversand landscape. Thesite, characterised by hearthpits (Verlinde/Newell 2006), is not situated on theFrisian-Drenth boulder clay plateau, but further south at the edge of the wide (c.1 km) Vecht valley. Although it is not known whether the nearby meander of theVecht was active at that time, the site location appears to be associated with theriver valley and the high vantage point it offers over it (see Appendix I). Since itis not situated in the river valley next to the stream itself, it is not attributed tothe group of river valley sites. In fact its position on a coversand ridge and overallcharacteristics do not preclude its placement in the group of northern coversandsites.

5.3.2.3 Group 3: wetlands and wetland margin

This group is a generic category formed by sites situated mainly on river dunesin the delta (Alblasserwaard region), the Scheldt valley, the Swifterbant area andthe wetland margins of the current Noordoost Polder and southern coversandlandscape. For this group it is important to understand that sites attributed to itare situated in different degreesof a wetland setting, as argued above. There is thusa distinction between sites that are situated in a complete wetland environment

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and those that are characterised by dry elements in their hinterland or developingwetland conditions. These differences also define some of the exceptions relevantto this group.Melsele-Hof ten Damme and Oudenaarde-DonkBoth Melsele and Oudenaarde are attributed to the wetland group (see table 5.1).Based on their geographical location this is not problematic, but it is questionableto what extent a wetland situation existed or was present nearby during occupation.Melsele is situated in the Lower Scheldt Basin on a Late Glacial dune in the wetlandmargin (Van Roeyen et al. 1992, 41). A radiocarbon date around 5300 BP (c.4100 cal BC) indicates deposition of brackish sediments. Palynological evidencealso points to a brackish environment (Chenopodiaceae and algae) with tidalinfluences. Pollen from these sediments indicate a heavily wooded environmentcomprising, among others, alder (40%), oak (20%) and lime (10%) as well asherbaceous plants. This points to a wet environment. From 3100 cal BC, the duneis covered with peat. Palynologically this situation may also date to the Atlantic,although actual deposition at the dune only took place in the Subboreal (ibid.45-46). It is thus difficult to estimate to what extent the wetland conditions alsocharacterised the nearby environment during the Late Mesolithic, but the site wasat least situated in an area that was increasingly becoming a wetland.6Oudenaarde is situated on a Pleistocene point-bar system of the Scheldt Riverin the Middle Scheldt Basin (Belgium). During occupation the area becameincreasingly wet before being covered with peat and clay in protohistoric andRoman times (Parent et al. 1987a, 7-8). The site is situated in the Scheldt valley butthe width of this valley may be estimated at c. 2 km. It is therefore not appropriateto attribute the site to the river valley group. The site is in fact located betweentwo Late Glacial depressions. In between these there is an area of interspersed 1.5m high ridges belonging to a fossil point bar system of the Scheldt. Due to therising groundwater table in the Holocene the depressions were gradually filledup.7 Palynological information from the fossil channel indicates a forest consistingof oak, hazel, lime and elm for the Atlantic and Subboreal part of the sequence.In the wetter parts alder (Alnus) replaced willow (Salix). Macrobotanical remainsindicate a wet, riparian environment as well as more ruderal vegetation (Parent etal. 1987a,10-13; De Ceunynck et al. 1985).Based on the geological and ecological information it is difficult to establish towhat extent the site was situated in or near a wetland area during its Late Mesolithicoccupation. It is evident that this was the case during the Neolithic occupation.An interpretation as a site situated in a (developing) wetland or wetland marginseems most appropriate.Hoge Vaart-A27 and Urk-E4Similar problems of interpretation arise in the attribution of two other wetlandmargin sites: Hoge Vaart and Urk. The latter site is located on a river dune alongan earlier course of the Vecht (Peeters 2007, 209). Until c. 4500 cal BC the site waslocated in an increasingly wet environment with both open water and peat growth.Around 4100 marine influence increased and in part of the area a freshwater tidalregime developed. From 3450 cal BC onwards marine influence decreased againand extensive peat growth took place. This continued until around 3400 cal BCwhen the entire dune was covered (Peters/Peeters 2001, 17-22, 112, 117). Evidently

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

137

the site became a genuine wetland location during the 5th millennium (see alsoOut 2009, 196), which postdates the Late Mesolithic phase with hearthpits datingbetween 7000 and 5000 cal BC. While this would potentially allow an attributionto a group of northern coversand sites, its location around 5500 cal BC (see map5500 cal BC in Vos et al. (eds) 2011, 42) accentuates its proximity to the widerwetland area, while the later developments confirm this position as a wetlandmargin site.Hoge Vaart is situated on a coversand ridge, which forms a foothill of higherpositioned sandy soils connected with the Gooi and Veluwe areas. To the westthe ridge slopes into a flat landscape. To the east an old channel - most likelyof the Eem - forms a low-lying area. Early in the Holocene peat formation tookplace. On top of the peat a colluvial layer of sand, originating from the dune, wasdeposited in the Boreal or early Atlantic. Clastic, organic and sandy deposits from5400 cal BC subsequently covered this layer. This indicates that the area becameincreasingly wet because of the rise in sea level and concomitantly groundwatertable. Between 5100 and 4900 cal BC aquatic sediments were deposited. Over timethe site became covered with Holocene sediments. After 4500 cal BC habitationwas impossible. The vegetation on the dune is characterised by a lime and hazelforest during the Boreal and the Early Atlantic (3BC-horizon).Unfortunately information on the vegetation of the low-lying area is missingfor the Boreal and the Early Atlantic, but alder probably grew in the wetter parts.During the Atlantic, oak increased and the vegetation on the dune opened up,consisting of species such as alder, ash, willow, garden sorrel and ferns. In the lowlying wet area there was marsh and reed vegetation (Peeters/Hogestijn 2001, 2728; Spek et al. 2001a,b). Based on these developments it can be stated that at leastduring the latter part of its Late Mesolithic hearthpit occupation (c. 5500-4850cal BC; Peeters 2004; Peeters et al. 2001, 15) the site was situated in a wetlandenvironment. Before that the area became increasingly wet, indicating a positionin a developing wetland, or as a wetland margin site (see Peeters 2007, fig. 3.12).Willemstad and s-Hertogenbosch-MaaspoortTwo other wetland sites should briefly be mentioned: Willemstad and Maaspoort.Maaspoort is situated on the edge of the North-Brabant coversand area, borderingon the wetlands of the central Dutch river area (see Verhart/Wansleeben 1991).Sites like this have been hypothesized to form possible summer counterpartsfor sites in the wetlands, like Hardinxveld. Unfortunately the artefactual andcontextual information of the site is limited and no Late Mesolithic artefactsor faunal assemblage could be isolated (see Appendix I). The Willemstad site isknown for the small wooden figurine that was found there, radiocarbon dated toc. 5400 cal BC. The site was situated on a sand ridge in a freshwater tidal estuary.Based on its position on the palaeo-geographical map (5500 cal BC; Vos et al.2011, (eds) 43) the site is situated in the tidal area and may be classified as awetland location. Unfortunately no further finds or contextual information areavailable for the site.

138

persistent traditions

5.3.2.4 Group 4: river valley/valley floor

These sites are characterised by a common settlement location in the valley ofa river, brook or stream. Their common denominator is therefore a settlementlocation choice that is directly and distinctly situated in a floodplain or riverinesituation. In that respect these sites form potentially interesting counterparts forsites in settlement systems that also incorporate other environments. This makesthem of complementary interest in relation to the other groups, most notablythe southern and northern coversand landscape groups. Three of the sites in thisgroup were situated next to the Meuse and its tributaries in the foothills of theArdennes. They are therefore also of distinct regional value. The site of Jardingaon the banks of the Tjonger is clearly a special activity location and thereforeof a different nature (see below). The site of Nijlen-Varenheuvel is a potentialfifth candidate, but unfortunately has not yet yielded enough evidence for furtherinterpretation (see Appendix I).8JardingaJardinga is part of the group of river valley sites, but is a case in and of itself. Itshould be considered a special activity site since it represents an aurochs butcheringlocation (Prummel et al. 2002). Although the group as a whole is small, this siteis functionally different and should not be interpreted as typical for a residentialriver valley occupation (cf. supra). Furthermore it is situated far north, while theother sites are of a general (domestic) nature and located far to the south, alongthe Meuse and its tributaries.

5.3.2.5 Partial patterns

It is obvious that in the formation of these groups a lot of ground is literally notcovered. This includes the loess zone in the south, large parts of Flanders outsidethe Campine area, the central part of the Netherlands (Veluwe area, Gelderland,large parts of Overijssel) and the western part of the Netherlands including thecoastal area. A number of reasons for this have been given above (see section5.3; see also Verhart/Groenendijk 2005). Currently the scarcity of excavated siteswith a distinct Late Mesolithic signature in these areas forms a research bias. Thesites that are available and their regional connotations may provide an idea ofthe original variability that may have been present and may yet, at least to someextent, be uncovered.

5.4 The Late Mesolithic settlement grammar

Having introduced the dataset and its limitations, attention will now focus on acomparison of the grouped sites with respect to a number of themes. These includea general approach focusing on what may be termed settlement grammar(cf.Cribb 1991, 2), involving site location choice, site structure and features, andinvestment (in section 5.4), with the purpose of distinguishing similarities anddifferences between sites in the documented settings. This is followed (in section5.5) by an analysis of the artefact assemblages and aspects of raw material choice.The object is to document whether there are perceivable differences in Mesolithic

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

139

land-use, mobility and interaction in relation to the environment and between

the distinguished regional groups. The reader is referred to Appendix I for furtherinformation at the level of the site.This section focuses on the locations and characteristics of sites in the landscape.Since many details for comparison have become obscured by post-depositionaland taphonomic factors (see Chapter 4; Sommer 1991) it is important to combinea number of perspectives in order to establish an idea of the types of sites andsettlements that may have existed.

5.4.1 Historical aspects and perspective

Mesolithic settlement models may shed light on land-use and mobility patterns.Much research has been directed at analysing aspects of lithic distribution (Mellars1976a), such as spatial and functional properties. For the LRA two general modelshave been made, based on site size and artefact counts (Newell 1973; Price 1978).These are presented in table 5.2 and fig. 5.2.In both models site-functions are attributed to the classifications. In Newellsmodel types A and D are base camps, and B and C subordinate camps, in Pricesmodel types 2,3 and 4 are base camps, 1 is an extraction camp and 5 an aggregationcamp (based on the site of Rotsterhaule; Lanting/Van der Plicht 1997/1998, 107).Price also includes group size and duration of occupation (1978, 90-95).Newell (1973, 402-404) also comments upon features. At type A sites there isa coincidence of the distribution of tools and features, while both find themselveswithin the distribution of waste. Within type B sites features and tools are locatedwithin the maximum distribution of waste. Type C sites might consist of up tothree or more concentrations sometimes including a hearth.The main critique of both models (e.g. Lanting/Van der Plicht 1997/1998, 108,115-116; Niekus 2006, 45; Peeters/Niekus 2005, 222-223; Raemaekers 1999,130; Verhart/Groenendijk 2005, 168; Verhart/Arts 2005, 240-241; Whallon1978, 33) is that sites that are often incompletely excavated or analysed, and sitesfrom different periods and regions are combined in an ethnographically inspiredsettlement model. Moreover, little attention is paid to the fact that sites werefrequently reoccupied for different purposes (cf. Binford 1982; 2002; see Chapter4). Artefact distribution and counts therefore also relate to factors such as time,group-size, re-use of locations and diversity of activities.Newell 1973

< 25 tools, low counts for major type

fewer scrapers, more cores

Table 5.2 Typological

classification of Mesolithicsites by Newell (1973) andPrice (1978).

On the positive side, hunter-gatherer landscape use is tethered to places, which

is why a macro-analysis of sites, including artefacts, features and dimensionalaspects can be useful if distorting factors are taken into account and questionsare aimed not at the level of site function, but at the (larger) scale of generalsimilarities and differences between regional patterns and overall trends in sitecharacteristics in relation to the landscape and environmental situation.

5.4.2 A settlement fabric approach: texture, grain, redundancy

In order to compare the different (structural) aspects of Late Mesolithic sites andtheir internal relationship a combined and integrated approach is most useful.An appropriate framework for this might be based on the fabric qualities ofredundancy, grain and texture as introduced by Cribb (1991, 2). Redundancyin this respect reflects the intensity and investment at sites as evidenced, forinstance, by features and artefact density. Zooming out, grain results from the(spatial) structuring or patterning (the weave) of individual elements at sites withrespect to one another. Texture finally forms the broadest, geographically orientedperspective and deals with the overall articulation and positioning of sites in thelandscape.Late-Mesolithic sites will be analysed using these concepts as a generalframework. Although not all qualities may be recorded at every site, the aim isto understand more of the grammar and variability underlying Late Mesolithicsettlement organisation. To remain in the terminology proposed by Cribb (1991)an idea of the actual fabric of Late Mesolithic settlement may be given. In thefollowing these three different and interrelated aspects will be discussed, startingwith the landscape scale and subsequently zooming in on site-related patterning.

5.4.3 Site location choice: the texture

The differences and similarities in site locations are informative with respect tothe factors that govern settlement in a particular area. These include peoplespurpose and desires, as well as the possibilities offered and constraints imposed bythe environment. Both determine the character of occupation. Ethnographic andarchaeological studies have revealed that many factors impinge upon choices ofsite location, most notably the presence of resources such as water, raw materials,

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

141

actual or anticipated biomass as well as archaeologically less visible factors, such

as territoriality, mating networks and other socio-cultural aspects (e.g. Binford1978a;1980; 2002; Jefferies et al. 2005; Jochim 1991; Kent 1992; Kent/Vierich1989; Politis 1996; Watanabe 1968; Wood 2006). These factors, often overprolonged periods of time, lead to a repeated frequentation of certain locationsand to accumulation of debris. From an archaeological point of view theselocations can be characterised as persistent places (Barton et al. 1995; Schlanger1992). This does not, however, mean that the reason for their chronological depthremained the same through time. Most of the sites in the defined groups yieldedevidence for frequent use throughout the Late Mesolithic. Their characteristics incombination with the regional context provide clues pertaining to the nature ofoccupation and potential differences.

5.4.3.1 Locational characteristics: southern coversand landscape

The majority of sites in group 1 (southern coversand landscape) is situated on thetop or slope of Late Glacial coversand ridges or dunes. As argued above this microrelief characterises much of the region. These elevations are all situated in thevicinity of water in the form of meres or peat fens and streams (see table 5.3).9Most sites are slightly above the waterfront and almost all are exposed to thesouth. This type of location indicates a strong relation to the local topographywhich is typical for the Campine area in the Mesolithic (e.g. Arts 1989; Deeben/Arts 2005; Van Gils/De Bie 2006; 2008; Van Gils et al. 2009, 263; see alsoVanmontfort et al. 2010b). Several factors may be mentioned that could be regardedas important for settlement location choice, including the presence of open water,both as a resource and for the biodiversity it creates. Another factor may havebeen formed by optimal (longest) exposure to sunlight and heat (Van Gils/De Bie2008), or shelter against prevailing winds (see Deeben/Arts 2005, 151). Whilethe elevations are low, the choice for a southern slope may also relate to the factthat water is usually found on this side. This often pertains to the general layoutof the landscape (including dunes and meres or peat fens) and its formation byaeolian sedimentation processes.10 Furthermore there is the potential presence of

Table 5.3 Geographical setting

of Late Mesolithic sites on thesouthern coversand landscape(see Appendix I and referencesfor additional information).

site

geom. setting

situation/orientation

water

location water

other

Brecht-Overbroek

SW-NE coversandridge

top/slope, S?

fen/stream

S, (stream), vicinity

part of site complex

Brecht-Moordenaarsv. 2

E-W coversand dune

slope, S

fen

S, c. 50 m.

Brecht-Thomas Heyveld

coversand dune

top/slope

large depression/fen?

E, associated

Dilsen-Dilserheide III

SW-NE coversandridge

slope, S/SW

spring

SW, unknown

Neolithicoccupation

HelmondStiphoutsbroek

S-N coversand dune

slope, SE

stream

W/SW, direct vicinity

Neolithicoccupation

Lommel-Molse Nete

E-W valley slope

slope, S

stream

S, direct vicinity

Lommel-Vosvijvers

SW-NE coversanddune

below top, S?

stream

S/SE?, c. 60 m.

Meeuwen-In denDamp I

S-N coversand ridge

slope, W

stream/fen

W, c. 50 m?

Merselo-Haag

E-W coversand ridge

top/slope, S

stream/fen

S, direct vicinity

Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil

SW-NE coversandridge

top/slope, S

fen

S, c. 15 m.

Turnhout-Zwarte Heide

coversand ridge

slope, S?

fen

S and SW

Weelde-Paardsdrank

SW-NE coversandridge

top/slope, SW?

fen

S/SW, c. 50 m.

Weelde-Voorheide

E-W coversand ridge

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persistent traditions

pottery

raw material, specifically locally available rolled nodules, providing an important

component of the lithic assemblage.11 Light, water and resources therefore appearto have formed primary conditions for somewhat more extended stays of a moregeneral character (cf. Binford 2002, 185-187).The characteristics of site location choice in this region appear relativelyhomogenous and are comparable to (contemporaneous and earlier) Mesolithicoccupation in neighbouring regions such as Sandy Flanders (compare Cromb etal. 2011b; Deeben/Arts 2005, 150-151; Van Gils et al. 2009, 263). A number offactors form the basis for a repetitive use of this landscape that result in similaritiesin archaeological patterning and are suggestive of continuity in behavioural aspectsrelated to the positioning of sites in the landscape.

5.4.3.2 Locational characteristics: northern coversand landscape

Table 5.4 Geographical setting

of Late Mesolithic sites in thenorthern coversand landscape(see Appendix I and referencesfor additional information).

Unfortunately the number of excavated Late Mesolithic sites in this group is lowin comparison to the southern coversand landscape. Sites are situated in a varietyof locations (see table 5.4).Sites in the northern coversand landscape lack the distinct homogeneity insettlement location choice that was inferred for sites in the southern coversandlandscape. Yet, although the limited numbers demonstrate some variability thisdoes not mean that site location choice was different. As in the south, sites aresituated on elevations such as coversand dunes on the foothills of a moraine ridge(Casparie in Beuker 1989), small and steep sandy hillocks (Huiskes 1988) formingthe higher part of a belt of sand, or the circular blown ridge of Havelte (Price et al.1974). Water is usually found in the immediate vicinity of the site and is sometimesof considerable extent. East of Bergumermeer an extensive low-lying till zoneformed a basin in which the later lakes Bergumermeer and De Leyen developed,in relation to which the site was strategically situated in the Late Mesolithic (seeCasparie/Bosch 1995, fig. 9). At Havelte the area enclosed by the blown-outridge became increasingly wet during the Atlantic as was demonstrated by theformation of Sphagnum peat. Water could also have accumulated there (Price etal. 1974, 14). The extensive site of Marinberg is located on a ridge several metersabove an old meander of the Vecht. Nieuw-Schoonebeek is bordered on bothsides by wide valleys within which running fresh water could be found, while theSchoonebekerdiep provided another source of water (Casparie in Beuker 1989,182-184). The sandy hillocks at Tietjerk were located south of open water, whileN-S oriented creeks might have separated the different tops (Huiskes 1988). Incontrast to the south, the northern sites do lack a distinct southern exposure.

site

geom. setting

water

location water

other

Bergumermeer-S64B

NW-SE, coversand ridge, top, exposure, north, south,

southern shoreeast

situation/orientation

lake Bergumermeer/De Leyen

NE-S, 100-150 m

nearby knoll occupied (c.

90 m); low till zone

Havelte-De Doeze

circular blown-outridge

top eastern part ridge

inner depression

SW, c. 50-100 m

push moraine SE; other

localities ridge occupied

Marinberg-DeSchaapskooi

NE-SW, high coversand

ridge

top ridge

valley of the Vecht

W, unknown, possiblyimmediate

nearby sites; located near

valley

Nieuw-Schoonebeek

coversand dune S.extension Hondsrug

two plateaus on top ridge,

sharp drop to the east

two wide gullies

N/E, c. 20 m?

ice pushed ridge 1 km S;

Schonebeekerdiep

Tietjerk-Lytse Geast I

Steep sand hillock(s)

top and slopes

open water; creeks

immediateopen water N; creeksW/E

hillocks occupied; peatland, bog lake nearby

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

143

It might be argued that next to the diverse geomorphological settings and thevicinity of water, there is an overall focus on gradient-rich environments. All sitesare situated at an ecotone, or the transition of two or more distinct ecologicalzones. Site location choice in the northern coversand landscape therefore appearsless homogenous and perhaps focused on larger ecotones. In combination withthe characteristics of the landscape (lakes, moraine subsoil, different drainagepatterns and peat growth), it offers a somewhat different picture of Late Mesolithicoccupation choice. It concerns a difference of degree, rather than kind, sinceessentially, comparable locations were sought after.

Site location choice in the wetland and wetland margin group as well as in thegroup of sites situated in river valleys is summarized below (see tables 5.5 and5.6).The site of Polderweg is located on the top and slopes of a river dune. Thedelimitation of the site extent (Mol 2001a, fig. 2.5) shows a southern orientation,which may have been determined by exposure to the light and heat of the sun aswell as the proximity of water (ibid. 51). During phase 1 the site was situated atthe transition from an area with open water to a peat swamp (Mol 2003). Thesite was exposed to open water on at least one side (Bakels/Van Beurden 2001,357). The situation around De Bruin is comparable (see Mol 2003). Crevassechannels linked the site to open water, which is confirmed by the presence oftwo canoes and a potential landing stage (Louwe Kooijmans/Nokkert 2001, fig.4.27). The other sites are situated in what may best be termed an increasingly

Table 5.5 Geographical setting

of Late Mesolithic sites inwetlands and wetland margins(see Appendix I and referencesfor additional information).

site

geom. setting

situation/orientation

water

location water

other

Hdx-Polderweg(phase 0-1)

river dune (donk)

top/southern slope

lakes, marshes,channels

within wetland

De Bruin at c. 1 km;increasingly wetenvironment

Hdx-De Bruin(phase 1)

river dune (donk)

SE slope

lakes, marshes,channels

within wetland

Polderweg at c. 1km; increasingly wetenvironment

Melsele-Hof tenDamme

coversand margin

E slope

floodplain Scheldt

nearby

Hoge Vaart-A27

N-S orientedcoversand ridge,foothill

top and eastern slope

palaeochannel of theEem valley

E, immediate

dry forest, alder carr,

reedlands and openwater

Oudenaarde-Donk

ridge, point bar

system

floodplain/channelScheldt

(S), immediate

increasingly wetenvironment

Swifterbant-S11/12/13

river dune

NE/centre/W top

stream/creek

vicinity

increasingly wetenvironment (5500cal BC)

Swifterbant-S21

river dune

N top

stream/creek

vicinity

increasingly wetenvironment (5500cal BC)

Swifterbant-S22/23/24

river dune

N/W top/slope

stream/creek

vicinity

increasingly wetenvironment (5500cal BC)

Swifterbant-S61

river dune

NW (top)/slope

stream/creek?

increasingly wetenvironment (5500cal BC)

Swifterbant-S83

E-W, river dune

NE slope

stream/creek?

increasingly wetenvironment (5500cal BC)

Urk-E4

river dune

SE slope

stream

(S) vicinity

increasingly wetenvironment until4500 cal BC

144

persistent traditions

Table 5.6 Geographical setting

of Late Mesolithic sites inriver valley locations (seeAppendix I and references foradditional information).

wet environment. Melsele and Oudenaarde, as argued above, may best be termedwetland margin locations (see Van Berg et al. 1992; Van Roeyen et al. 1992;Van Strydonck et al. 1995, table 1). The situation for the Swifterbant river dunesites depended on their individual elevation and location. In general the effectsof the sea-level rise in the basin of Lake IJssel, in the form of peat formation,only affected the Swifterbant area from 5400 cal BC onwards. This means thatonly the last Mesolithic hunter-gatherers would have experienced the formation ofwetlands (Deckers et al. 1981, 142; De Roever 2004, 6-7). Peeters (2007, 62-64),however, argues that the development of wetlands and the transition to mosaicwoodland already started from c. 6000 cal BC onwards. Since the Swifterbantsites are located near the main valley of the IJssel-Vecht system, this influence andincreasing peat growth from c. 5500 cal BC will have been noticeable. These sitesshould therefore be interpreted as wetland margin locations, compared to wetlandsites such as Hardinxveld. Similar changing conditions may be proposed for thesite of Urk-E4, located on a river dune surrounded by developing wetlands andHoge Vaart-A27, situated on a coversand ridge bordering a palaeochannel of theEem in an increasingly wet environment (Peeters 2007; Peters/Peeters 2001, 1722, 112-117).It may be concluded that the Late Mesolithic sites in this group are mostlysituated on higher elevations in a wetland or developing wetland area. These rangefrom relatively low dunes or ridges (Melsele, Oudenaarde, Hoge Vaart) to moresteep elevations (Hardinxveld river dunes, Urk-E4).Although Jardinga has been classified as an exception within the group of rivervalley sites (see above), all sites are situated in the direct vicinity of a stream. Thelargely comparable Belgian sites are in fact situated in the floodplain of a largerstream or river, at some distance from the actual channel and next to, or borderingon, a fossil channel or small tributary.12 Both LPS and RSD were positioned at thefoot of a slope and are characterised by artificially raised platforms (Gob/Jacques1985; Van der Sloot et al. 2003).An important factor governing site location choice in the wetlands and rivervalleys must be the opportunities offered by the rich aquatic environment. Thisis attested as beneficial to intensive hunter-gatherer land-use, both throughethnographic as well as archaeological research (e.g. Kelly 1992; Nicholas 1998a,b;2007a,b; Price/Brown 1985; Zvelebil 2003b). For the LRA, the rich organic evidenceand seasonal information of sites such as Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruinillustrate the sustainable qualities of these areas (see Louwe Kooijmans 2003). Forthe river valleys lithic raw material may have formed a further incentive (Bakels1978; Brown 1997), while in both areas water and streams would have functioned

site

geom. setting

situation/orientation

water

location water

other

Lige-PlaceSt.-Lambert-SDT

floodplain, left bank of

the Meuse

in between two fossil

channels of the Lgia

Meuse, Lgia

nearby

located at footnorthern slope

Lige-Place St.Lambert -DDD

floodplain, left bank of

the Meuse

bordering depression, possibly fossil channel Lgia

Meuse, Lgia

nearby

located at footnorthern slope

Lige-Place St.Lambert -Tivoli

floodplain, left bank of

the Meuse

bank of fossil channel Lgia

Meuse, Lgia

nearby

located at footnorthern slope

RemouchampsStation LeDuc

floodplain, left bank of

the Amblve

situated on large meander

next to a smaller channel

Amblve, tributaries

nearby

foot northern valley

slope

Namur

floodplain Meuse

confluence Meuse and

Sambre

Meuse, Sambre

nearby

Jardinga

floodbasin Tjonger

bank

Tjonger

nearby

peat within boulder

clay area/coversand

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

145

as corridors for contact and transport (ibid.; Ames 2002). These wetland and valleyfloor sites, as those in the other groups, should not be understood in isolation, butstudied in relation to their function in the settlement system of mobile groups,covering other areas as well.

5.4.4 Settlement structure: the grain

Site location choice and topographical situation form a landscape perspectiveon the characteristics of sites. Zooming in, the (intra-site spatial) structuring ofelements at sites with respect to each other (grain, sensu Cribb 1991) offers adifferent scope, related more to occupation behaviour. For the different groupsdefined a number of characteristics may be sketched. Comparison is unfortunatelyhampered by post-depositional processes and is quantitatively concentrated onthe southern coversand (see Chapter 4).

5.4.4.1 The southern coversand landscape: concentrations, clusters

and scattersIn the southern coversand landscape sites are characterised by lithic concentrationsof various sizes. Over the past decades many methods have been used to identifythese structures latentes (sensu Leroi-Gourhan/Brzillon 1972), comprising a varietyof statistical techniques (e.g. Cziesla 1990a, 8-40; Newell 1987; Whallon 1973;1974). Critique of these approaches has been equally extensive (e.g. Kent 1987,5-8; Stapert 1992, 12; De Bie/Caspar 2000, 29; Chapter 4), based on taphonomicconsiderations of both natural and anthropogenic character (cf. Schiffer 1995).This served to show that the assumptions required for many statistical analysesare often beyond archaeological resolution (Hodder/Orton 1976, 239) and thatintricate statistical analyses rarely unravel the many complex processes underlying(lithic) spatial distribution (cf. De Bie/Caspar 2000, 29). Their success stronglydepends on pristine preservation of the site and a high level of precision inexcavation and documentation. With respect to the sites studied here one or moreof the above criteria is often not met. Data were often not available digitally andgrid- or point-based information was also often missing. The quality of the dataand the considerations above have therefore primarily led to a visual approach,enhanced by a test case using MapInfo, Surfer and the moving average method.13Moving averages at Merselo-HaagTo test the significance of delimiting spatial concentrations on the basis ofdistribution plans, the site of Merselo-Haag is used as a test case, based uponthe combination of a detailed excavation strategy (25 x 25 cm squares), theconsiderable extent of the excavation (409 m2) and the fact that most finds werefound below the disturbed A horizon, which has been left out of the spatialanalysis (see Verhart 2000, 68-72). The analysis was conducted with the aid ofMilco Wansleeben (Faculty of Archaeology, Leiden).Based upon the analysis executed by Verhart (2000, 115-127), a total of four(instead of five) concentrations were accepted as spatially significant for the LateMesolithic.14 Most important changes involved the recombination of clusters 3and 4 (see also Verhart 2000, 126-127) and the rejection of cluster 5 (a possiblecomposite tool) in favour of a cluster of burnt flint (6) associated with hearth 4.These units were subsequently measured using the distribution map (Verhart 2000,

146

persistent traditions

spatial unit

Table 5.7 Metric analysis

of spatial units defined inthe Late Mesolithic zone ofMerselo-Haag.

length m

width m

concentration 1

2.4

shape

concentration 2

1.2

1.2

circular

concentration 3/4

4.2

2.4

oval

concentration 6

0.9

semi-circular (2 units)

scatter

20

semi-circular

oval/elongated

fig. 2.25; see Appendix I). Furthermore the encompassing scatter was measured.This could be done tentatively in view of the absence of further concentrationsin the testpits surrounding the excavation. This led to the subdivision presentedin table 5.7.Following this, the documented resolution from the excavation plan wasgeneralized by combining the counts per square meter and subsequently blurredto 5 m weighted intervals (using MapInfo and Surfer). The effects of thegeneralization and moving average method can be seen in fig. 5.3 B and C. Thecombined general counts per square meter projected in 5.3 B confirm and supportthe distribution and delimitation visible in the 25 x 25 cm units. Furthermore thereseems to be a somewhat increased contrast between the western and eastern partof the spatial distribution, which adds value to the initial subdivision proposed byVerhart (2000, 71-78), indicating that the activities in the Early Mesolithic zonemay have been of a different nature and intensity. Generalizing the distributionmay thus enhance larger scale subdivisions present in the plan. Fig. 5.3 C takesthis one step further by blurring the distribution at a 5 x 5 m interval. Thisbetter visualizes the differentiation present and enables the pinpointing of isolatedconcentrations. Their density may form an indication of the intensity or frequencywith which a site was used. It may also enhance the relationship between largeand small scale activities as well as intra-site place consistency. Of course it shouldbe noted that since we are dealing with multi-period sites, further temporaldistinction improves analysis, but this is often not possible.The moving average results indicate a certain consistency in the size anddelimitation of the individual concentrations. This argues against the idea thatthe dimensions of artefact clustering only result from the resolution achieved inexcavation and documentation. Nevertheless as is shown by the functionallyrelated, yet spatially separate constituents of concentration 3/4 adjacentphenomena blend into a single shape at a lower resolution. It is thus very likelythat some recorded concentrations can be broken down into separate elements ata higher level of detail (see also Cziesla 1990a, 20-37; 1990b).15Metric analysis: an approachThe problems regarding the definition and delimitation of concentrations indicatethat a comparative metric analysis of spatial clustering at Late Mesolithic sites canonly reveal a very coarse pattern, but also that, to some extent, the concentrationsprovide information. Nine sites located in the Belgian Campine area and adjacentDutch coversand landscape were selected. These yielded a total of 36 spatial unitsthat could be delimited and measured. A first problem involved the aspect ofdelimitation. It was decided to try and incorporate the represented diversity.Three categories were defined for this purpose:

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

147

original 25 x 25 cm units105

100

2195

90

85

A325

330

335

340

345

350

355

360

combined counts per square meter

105

100

321

95

90

85

B325

330

335

340

345

350

355

360

5 x 5 m weighted intervals105

100

321

95

90

85

C325

148

330

335

persistent traditions

340

345

350

355

360

Fig. 5.3 A-C. (A) original

1. The first set of measurements focuses on the smallest spatial units observedwithin distribution plans of finds. These are termed concentrations.2. The second set deals with larger more or less homogeneous concentrationsof finds, often with one or more accumulations or cores of higher density.These are defined as clusters.

Table 5.8 Metric analysis

of spatial units defined fora number of sites in thesouthern coversand landscape.

site

spatial unit

length m

width m

Merselo-Haag

scatter

20

concentration 1

2.4

concentration 2

1.2

1.2

concentration 3/4

4.2

2.4

concentration 6

0.9

Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 1

concentration 1

2.5

1.6

concentration 2

1.8

1.2

concentration 3

2.5

Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 4

concentration 1

1.5

concentration 2

2.5

concentration 3

3.5

2.5

Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 5

cluster 1

3.3

Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil

cluster H-G

concentration H

2.8

2.5

concentration G

3.6

2.5

concentration M

Brecht-Moordenaarsven 2

scatter

14

6.5

concentration south

2.5

cluster centre

concentration north

Dilsen-Dilserheide III

5.1

3.5

3.2

scatter (testpitted)

60

40

cluster

8.8

concentration N

2.5

1.25

concentration south

3.5

2.8

Meeuwen-In den Damp 1

cluster N25E25/(Pilati 2)

10

cluster N11E17/(Pilati 1-1b)

concentration 1a in N11E17A

cluster S21E5/(Pilati 4)

Lommel-Vosvijvers

concentration III

concentration II

1.7

Lommel-Molse Nete

scatter < 2km (surface)

Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek

scatter (surface)

300

150

scatter (excavation)

13.5

concentration

1.5

5.7

3.9

3.9

concentration 1b

cluster S12E8/(Pilati 3)

3.5

4.5

1.5

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

149

3. The final set of measurements incorporates both measured and estimated sitesizes. This latter category is based upon data from excavations, augering, andsurvey campaigns and therefore has yielded highly diverse results with respectto site extent. This larger scale of clustering is defined as scatter.16Of all units, length (longest axis) and width were measured or documented. Ageneral margin of up to 1 m should be taken into account since the analysis isbased upon a visual approach. The results are presented in table 5.8.The three defined sets of measurements are not readily comparable since theyfocus on three different aspects of site extent, in some cases retrieved throughdifferent methods of documentation.17 The larger spatial units are, however, oftenformed by several of the smaller spatial units, occasionally separated by emptyzones (cf. infra). So there is a certain interrelationship in which the smaller spatialunits form building blocks for the larger spatial units. The different scales atwhich these sets of measurements have been documented are combined in fig. 5.4to visualise these relations.It is evident that there is a considerable scalar difference between the threegroups of measurements, despite the inbuilt inaccuracy. Nineteen spatial units witha length-width ratio of up to 4.5 by 4 m represent the largest group. Demarcatedby an evident interval, the next group of eight spatial units falls within a range of 7x 3 up to 10 x 6 m. The last group starts at c. 13.5 x 7 m and includes two outliersof 60 x 40 and 300 x 150 m that are not plotted. These form the total site extentestimates for Dilsen-Dilserheide III and Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek (Luypaert etal.1993; Arts 1994).Finally, the dimensions of the shape of the concentrations were also documented(see table 5.9).Although no absolute trend is observable, circular and semi-circular shapesseem to be largely confined to the group with the smallest dimensions, while ovaland elongated shapes tend to characterise groups B and C.

10,009,008,00

width m

7,00

6,005,00

Fig. 5.4 Analysis of length and

width of spatially delimitedconcentrations at sites in thesouthern coversand landscape.A: concentrations; B: clusterswith cores; C: scatters.The two largest scattermeasurements form outliersbeyond the range of the graph.

4,003,002,001,000,000,00

A5,00

10,00

15,00length m

150

persistent traditions

20,00

25,00

Table 5.9 Diversity of shapes

per group of dimensions.

shape/group

Group A

Group B

Group C

Total

(semi-)circular

11

12

semi-circular/U-shaped

U-shaped

oval

14

oval/U-shaped

oval-elongated

20

32

Total

5.4.4.2 Interpreting concentrations, clusters and scatters

It is clear that more sites with spatially delimited units are necessary to be ableto further confirm the pattern and spatial characteristics presented here, yet thedata do seem to reveal something of the structure underlying Late Mesolithicsettlement in the southern coversand landscape. The constituent elements of thisgrammar, which are related yet not similar, will now be discussed.Group A: concentrationsThis group is formed by the basic building blocks of Mesolithic sites, the individualconcentrations of artefacts reflecting a variety of activities. Unfortunately theindividual concentrations have only been functionally analysed at a few sites (inmost cases this was done for the excavation as a whole or for separate trenches).The few informative sites (notably Meeuwen-In den Damp I, Merselo-Haag andWeelde-Paardsdrank) indicate maintenance, consumption and debitage activities.18The general dimensions of group 1 (up to 4.5 m) and its predominant circularshape seem to coincide with the distribution of debitage material in flint knappingexperiments, in both sitting and standing positions (see Kvamme 1997, fig. 2,pp. 126). This is further substantiated by the fact that these concentrations alsoform the nodes of refitted artefacts (e.g. Pilati 2001, fig. 6.1; Verhart 2000, fig.2.42; Vermeersch et al. 1992, fig. 32). There is even evidence of the size-sortingcharacteristics of flint knapping episodes, where the smallest finds cluster in thecentre, while larger flakes and debris are found at a greater distance, for instance atMerselo-Haag (Verhart 2000, fig. 2.49-2.51; Kvamme 1997, 125-128). Cores aretossed away even further, as is tentatively demonstrated by the concentrations atHelmond-Stiphoutsbroek and Meeuwen-In den Damp I (Arts 1994, fig. 3; Pilati2001; 2009).Another activity underlying the formation of concentrations is waste behaviour.This involves the disposal of primary refuse, such as knapping debris and hearthfills, away from their location of initial use. The character of this secondary refuse(sensu Schiffer 1995) may differ (e.g. burnt flint, limited artefact size, ash dumpsetc.). Unfortunately waste dumps and contemporaneous or anachronistic activityareas need not necessarily be spatially separate as was for example demonstrated atthe Federmesser site of Rekem 16 (De Bie/Caspar 2000, 248-249).The importance of detecting secondary refuse is related to one of the structuringlaws defined by Schiffer (1995, 37) presupposing a correlation between anincrease in intensity of occupation and a decrease of correlation between use anddiscard locations. While several sites yielded some evidence for secondary refuse

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

151

behaviour, the overall image is one of more or less unstructured ad hoc depositionof debris and waste, i.e. relatively short-term occupation.19It is furthermore remarkable that 11 out of 20 concentrations are associatedwith hearths or remnants of hearths. Although contemporaneity could not alwaysbe established the proximity of concentrations and hearths in general indicates afunctional relationship characterised by activities and/or social interaction in needof light and heat. The hearths will be further discussed below.Group B: clustersThe second group consists of the spatial aggregations of the smaller concentrationsdiscussed above. There is a difference in the extent to which the underlyingindividual concentrations can be recognized visually. At some sites the excavationstrategy and graphic representation do not allow a detailed analysis of the numberand size of concentrations. For instance, only two opposing circular concentrationscan be made out at Dilsen-Dilserheide III (see Luypaert et al. 1993, fig. 5b).Other examples are Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil (Vermeersch et al. 1974; fig. 4) andBrecht-Moordenaarsven 2 (Vermeersch et al. 1992, figs. 23 and 31). At other sitesaccumulations of lithics are visible (sector H-G at Opglabbeek and the centralsection of Brecht), which may be interpreted as individual concentrations orclusters of concentrations. This also explains why multiple hearths are associatedwith these clusters.The dominance of oval shapes in this group may be explained as a result ofthe linking up of partially overlapping concentrations (see fig. 5.5). This effectis enhanced by the local geography (often the slope or top of coversand dunesand ridges), their micro-topography and the functional orientation to bodies ofwater (streams and peat fens) at the foot of these locations, in combination withrepeated visits over time. Through this repetitive behaviour sites develop into sitecomplexes (see also Van Gils 2009, 263; Van Gils/De Bie 2006; 2008; Sara 2006,279).While the shape of clusters is based on the topographical and situational aspectsof the site, these in themselves do not indicate the mechanisms responsible. Threescenarios may be sketched, most of which yield similar or indiscriminate results(see also Bailey 2007).The first explanation is the most common and involves the intersperseduse of the same location for similar or different activities. The intermixing of(predominantly) lithic artefacts of two different use moments leads to the formation

water

152

t1

hinterlandoptimal zone

optimal zone

hinterland

Fig. 5.5 Development of

longitudinal clustering ofcircular concentrations overtime.

persistent traditions

water

t2

of a palimpsest, the informative value of which is strongly dependent on similarities

in the nature of the activities involved. Since most sites discussed here are locatedon stable surfaces there is often no information available on the time that elapsedbetween two separate use moments. A variant of this scenario includes clusteringof a more premeditated nature, for instance as sites are recurrently visited becausethey developed into caches of re-usable lithics (see also Schlanger 1992; De Bie/Caspar 2000, 280). Although a selection of the raw materials used in the southerncoversand landscape could often be found in the direct vicinity of the sites (cf.infra), it is likely that these former surface collections, apart from other reasons forreturning, such as site furniture (sensu Binford 1979; 1981b), formed an attractiveadditional incentive for revisiting a specific location.A second scenario offers a more synchronic explanation. A sequence of activitiescentred for example on a hearth may have been responsible for the clustering ofconcentrations; there may have been an interruption in the debitage activities orthe wind might have shifted (see Binford 2002, 159), leading to a repositioningof activities. This was one of the suggestions to explain the empty zone betweenconcentrations 3 and 4 at Merselo (Verhart 2000, 126). Another important variantof this scenario is the hearth model (Binford 1978b; 2002). In this model people,seated around a hearth, dispose of the waste of their activities in a specific mannercreating toss and dropzones. In general light refuse will remain in place whileheavier objects are placed or tossed away. This often creates a U-shaped pattern.Many specific and contingent activities may form variations on this template.The model is specifically characteristic for outside hearths. Disposal behaviourinside tents and other dwellings is structured differently (Binford 2002, 157; seealso Stapert 1992, 43-44). Within the Late Mesolithic dataset, U-shaped patternswere found at both Merselo-Haag (concentration 1) and Meeuwen-In den Damp.The pattern at Merselo is rather small (2.4 x 2 m), and may be the result ofthe knapping activities of a single person. The (dispersed) U-shaped cluster atMeeuwen-In den Damp 1 (measuring c. 9 x 6 m) comprised a more detailed Ushaped concentration of in situ finds measuring c. 3.5 to 4 m. In an extensiveintrasite study Pilati (2001) tested whether this concentration fitted Binfordshearth model (see Appendix I).A final explanation for clustering suggests the presence of some sort of structureinfluencing the distribution of remains of activities. This has for example beensuggested for Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 5 and for Meeuwen-In den Damp (Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; Pilati 2001; 2009). This type of clustering is based upon socalled barrier effects characteristic for the bimodal distribution as demonstratedin the ring and sector model (Stapert 1992, 43-44). Contrasting with this Sara(2006, 280) has documented specific partitioning effects related to an emptyzone surrounding a hearth at the Early Mesolitic site of Choisey. He interpretedthis empty zone as a shelter structure or sleeping area. Unfortunately no intacthearths have been found at Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 5, nor at Meeuwen-In denDamp.An ethnographic perspective on clusteringAn ethnographic observation by Binford at the Anaktiqtauk kill-site (Alaska)provides insight into the dynamics underlying site structuring and clustering ofconcentrations. It deals with the potential contingent use of multiple hearths(2002, fig. 90). The proposal by one of the individuals seated around the fire

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

153

1m

to make some broth resulted in starting another hearth. One could hypothesizethat a similar situation existed at the site of Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil (Vermeerschet al. 1974, fig. 4; see fig. 5.6). The remains of the hearths in sector G there areat the same distance from each other and one may even see some differentiationin the activities performed in the different densities of the debris. While marrowextraction as at Binfords site cannot be attested, the acuity of the pattern in sectorG in any case suggests a similar short-term activity. The main point here is thatapart from sequential developments, clustering of sites may also have involvedboth instantaneous decisions and short-term behaviour.Group C: scattersScatters may be perceived of as part of the texture, the overall spread andcomposition of artefacts over the terrain (cf. supra). They may also include theexcavated patches, the concentrations and clusters.Perceived from a landscape perspective (see Foley 1981, 163; see also Chapter4) scatters are part of the low density veil of stones (see Isaac 1981; Roebroekset al. 1992). Scatters, from this perspective, form concentrations in the overallveil of isolated or semi-isolated artefacts. In contrast to the landscape scale of theveil, scatters do have limits within which higher density patches of artefacts, theclassic sites, are located. These patches may be related to the scatter yet they mayalso have been parachuted on top of it (see Roebroeks et al. 1992, 9-14). Thus,there need not be any chronological or functional association between scatter andpatch.The scatters defined here appear to form a chronological and spatialphenomenon, which is largely dependent on the frequency with which sites havebeen used. The mechanism underlying the formation of this aspect of scatters

is of a twofold character. The more important factor of the two relates to themaximum dispersal of material radiating out from the constellation of clustersand concentrations, during or after occupation. This can for example be seenat the site of Merselo-Haag in fig. 5.3 (note the lighter zone surrounding theconcentrations). There are, on the other hand, also those activities, which takeand took place in the vicinity of the site. Yellen (1977, cited in David/Kramer2001, 259-261) for instance, observed a spatial differentiation between cleanand dirty activities at !Kung San sites in Namibia. Dirty activities often requiredconsiderable space and took place in the periphery of the settlement. Binford(1978a; 1991; 2002) and Newell (1987) documented specific characteristics ofspatial behaviour and social or ritual organisation at various Nunamiut/Inupiatsites.20 Possible instances of such peripheral behaviour have also been documentedarchaeologically, although difficulties in identifying such production areas shouldbe taken into account. At the Federmesser site of Rekem, for example, arrow pointmanufacture appears to have been spatially situated away from other localities andactivities. This may be related to gender patterns or social rules (De Bie/Caspar2000, 282-283). At Merselo-Haag (Verhart 2000, 123) a concentration of backedblades was also situated away from the main concentration.Scatter, size, shape and developmentThe size and shape of scatters is also informative. They are usually of considerabledimensions, the smallest (Brecht-Moordenaarsven, 14 x 6 m), clearly beingdelimited by the size of the trench and postdepositional disturbance (Vermeerschet al. 1992, fig. 23). On other occasions their recorded extent has been determinedby means of surveying or augering, for instance at Dilsen-Dilserheide III (60 x 40m) and Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek (300 x 150 m). When interpreting scatter size,it should be realised that it is not the extent of an actual site or settlement that ismeasured, but rather the dimensions of (Mesolithic) site use of a certain featureor location in the landscape. An ethnographic example of this is given by Binford(2002, 118-119). He documented a temporary Nunamiut hunting camp in astand of willow trees at Anavik Springs (Alaska). According to Binford the locationat Anavik springs, from an archaeological point of view, consisted of a single siteextending for half a kilometre across which an uninterrupted distribution of debriscould be monitored. This represented the palimpsest refuse of at least 100 years ofre-use of the same location. The complex of sites at Lommel-Molse Nete shouldbe understood in a similar vein. The excavated Late Mesolithic concentrationsthere are part of a site complex extending over at least 2 km along the northernslope of the Molse Nete stream (see Van Gils/De Bie 2003; 2008), including thesite of Lommel-Vosvijvers. Similarly the concentrations excavated at Opglabbeekform only a fraction of the recently established extent of the entire site (Van Gils/De Bie 2006, 23, 26).What is actually documented, rather than a persistent use of a place is theoccurrence of consistent conditions in the landscape that promote a certain use ofa landscape feature over time (see Amkreutz 2009; Vanmontfort et al. 2010). It isthus important to be aware of the place of excavated Mesolithic sites in the overallpattern of land use, as illustrated in fig. 5.7. What is actually excavated is usuallybut a small fragment of a location, of which the functional use may have remainedsimilar over the years (or even centuries).

As with the formation of clusters, the shape of the scatter is importantly

influenced by site location choice in relation to topography (e.g. Van Gils and DeBie 2008) and the specific conditions that were sought after. In this light, sitesalong streams or gullies (as at Merselo-Haag and Lommel-Molse Nete) will sufferless from palimpsest formation since similar conditions for settlement existed overconsiderable stretches. In contrast sites located for example around more or lessisolated peat fens or on isolated outcrops may have a higher rate of overlap ofchronologically unrelated activities. In any case, as argued above, it seems thatgroups were looking for similar conditions rather than a distinct place.

5.4.4.3 Concentrations, clusters and scatters: northern coversand,

wetlands and river valleyThe elaborate discussion regarding the clustering of lithics also applies to sitesin the other groups, although the potential to obtain metric information onconcentrations and clusters is often limited (see table 5.10).For the northern coversand landscape preliminary investigations ofBergumermeer-S64B were only recently completed (NWO-Odyssey project) andno spatial information was available earlier (see Niekus 2012).21 At MarinbergSchaapskooi nine zones (ranging from 8 x 6 to 90 x 10 m) are indicated withinwhich most artefacts were collected before excavation (Verlinde/Newell 2006,fig. 49). There is no further metric information on them. At Havelte two LateMesolithic concentrations may tentatively be identified, based on the presence oftrapezes and the absence of triangles (Peeters/Niekus 2005; Price et al. 1974).22At Nieuw-Schoonebeek many of the identified concentrations within the overalldistribution of artefacts could be related to treefall features (Beuker 1989, 140).Based on the distribution of certain trapezes and other types of artefacts, achronological and spatial subdivision into two partially overlapping occupationzones was established (A and C; ibid. 179-182).23 At Tietjerk many oval andround concentrations of artefacts were documented. Despite the fact that only4.6% of the total assemblage of the site could be localized on the groundplan,Huiskes defined and analysed some twenty concentrations, the smallest of whichnumbers only two artefacts (see Huiskes 1988, table 1). It is evident that many ofthese concentrations are based on a skewed remnant of the original distribution(see Huiskes 1988, fig. 17). This calls into question both the true extent of most

156

persistent traditions

2000 m

Fig. 5.7 Overall dimensions

of recorded scatters(length) as well as oneconcentration (Merselo) andcluster (Weelde). Note theethnographically documentedAnavik site (Binford 2002,118) with a recorded timedepth of more than a century.

site

spatial unit(s)

length (m)

width (m)

H1:I

cluster?

9.4

H1:II

cluster?

11.1

AB

LM zone

BC

LM zone

Tietjerk-Lytse Geast I

20

concentrations

0.5-5

0.5-3.4

Hdx-Polderweg(phase 1)

cluster 1

cluster 2

10

Havelte-De Doeze

Nieuw-Schoonebeek

unit type

N artefacts

shape

H1:I: irregular

10.6

H1:II: 757

H1:II: semicircular

20

7.5

A: 2294 B: 3440

AB: elongated

22.5

10

B: 3440 C: 1911

BC: elongated

2-290

oval or round

oval

oval

concentration 1

semi-circular

Hdx-De Bruin(phase 1)

concentration 1

concentration 2

1.5

1.5

Swifterbant-S83

concentration 1

0.5

0.5

97

semi-circular

concentration 2

0.5

0.5

(97)

semi-circular

1(tr. 2)

concentration 3

0.5

28

semi-circular

Lige-PS-SDT

scatter

21

c. 10500

ovaloid

Lige-Place St.-LambertSDT east

cluster

ovaloid

H50

concentration

circular

G53

concentration

semi-circular

H55

concentration

1.5

1.5

semi-circular

Lige-PS-SDT west

cluster

12

ovaloid

Lige-PS-S160

concentration

semi-circular/dense

1-5

concentrations

circular/vague

cluster

4.5

1222

semi-circular

Lige-PS-SDT/S160 eastLige-PS-DDD

Lige-PS other

Table 5.10. Metric information

and artefact counts forconcentrations and clusters inthe northern coversand group(Havelte, Nieuw-Schoonebeekand Tietjerk), the wetlandgroup (Hardinxveld andSwifterbant-S-83) and severalsub-sites of the river valleysite of LPS).

1F8

concentration

circular

F10

concentration

circular

F11

concentration

circular

H9

concentration

circular

3-5

concentrations

circular/vague

of the concentrations as well as their credibility. Only three concentrations yielded

over 100 artefacts. It is furthermore remarkable that the contribution of tools isless than 30% in only four cases, which is an unusually high number (see Huiskes1988, table 1). It is concluded here that several concentrations will have existed atLytse Geast I, but that their exact number, extent and composition remain largelyunknown.For the wetland group only Hardinxveld and one of the Swifterbant sitesyielded metric information. At Polderweg the distribution of flint during phase1 (Van Gijn et al. 2001a, figs. 6.2-6.4) yielded two vague clusters, the secondof which contained a concentration of cores (ibid. fig. 6.6). De Bruin (see VanGijn et al. 2001c, fig. 6.1) yielded two small concentrations in squares 6 and20. Within the excavation trenches of S83 three small concentrations of flintwere documented (Jordanov 2005). For the river valley group, only the wellexcavated Lige-Place St.-Lambert site yielded metric information (Van der Slootin prep.,128, 164 fig. 2, fig. 20-22). Refit analysis indicated the contemporaneityof some of the concentrations in sector SDT (with refits up to 18 m) and there isan overall spatial association with clusters or pavements of stone.

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

157

Although the information is coarse-grained, it may be argued that similar

principles determine lithic distribution and lithic clustering at different sites.Currently there is not enough detailed information to establish contemporaneityof clusters and concentrations or to determine what specific functional behaviourunderlies their development. Such information would contribute importantly tounderstanding the dynamics behind the development of clustering and sites. Forsome sites, however, additional elements of settlement structure may be defined.

5.4.4.4 Alternative aspects of settlement structure

Apart from the aspects of lithic clustering discussed above, other aspects of internalsettlement structuring may be mentioned. These include the (limited) evidencefor spatial structuring at sites with zones of hearthpits as well as indications for agraded use of sites on elevations.Sites with hearthpitsSeveral sites in the northern coversand landscape and within the group of wetlandand wetland margin sites are characterised by considerable numbers of hearthpits,sometimes grouped in extensive zones (Marinberg and Hoge Vaart, but also UrkE4 and Swifterbant-S21 and S22-24). Although these are often the result of longterm repeated use of the site, in some cases spanning more than a millennium (e.g.Verlinde/Newell 2006, table 3), a number of interesting principles seem to applyto these sites. The first one concerns the fact that the hearthpits were probablyspecial-purpose facilities for slow- combustion fires (e.g. Groenendijk/Smit 1990;Hamburg et al. 2001; Peeters/Niekus 2005; Perry 1999; 2002). Furthermorehearthpits rarely cut into each other, indicating that the location of previous pitsmay still have been known or visible and avoided (Groenendijk 1997; 2004). Theclustering of some of the pits may furthermore indicate a restricted time-span ofoccupation for those areas (see Verlinde/Newell 2006, 208-229 and Peeters 2007).Finally, it has been suggested that at some hearthpit sites there is some spatialincongruence between the area where most of the hearthpits cluster and the mainconcentrations of lithics (see Peeters/Niekus 2005, 212). It indicates that differentrequirements and purposes may have spatially governed activities at these sites,although this has been difficult to establish due to problems of association andintermixing (see Chapter 4 and Peeters 2007, 216),

It has been argued that hearthpit sites may have functioned as a sociocultural marker, since most are situated in the north of the Netherlands(see Peeters 2007, 228-230). This could explain their overall (yet not total)absence at contemporary sites in the south.24 On the other hand their functionstrongly implies that presence or absence of hearthpits is based upon thespectrum of activities practised at a certain location, or at least the way inwhich these were executed. So they form an important marker for the LateMesolithic in the north, compared to that in the south.The main argument here is that sites with considerable numbers of hearthpitsindicate the presence of an additional set of structuring rules or elements thatdefine the layout and character of these sites. Tentatively they therefore differfrom those locations where hearthpits are absent. This may be both withinsettlement systems including hearthpit sites as well as with respect to those areaswhere hearthpits are largely absent.

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persistent traditions

Graded use of space

A further element of spatial structuring is a distinctly graded use of space. Thiscould only be properly documented at both Hardinxveld locations, but mostlikely applies to other prominent locations of limited extent that functioned inthe same manner. This was also demonstrated in Chapter 4 in the discussionof archaeological site types. With respect to both Hardinxveld sites, a use ofthese locations, that entailed a threefold division, could be documented. The topand upper slopes of the dunes yielded most features, including possible sunkendwellings at Polderweg. This area may be distinguished as a habitation area. Thelower slope and foot of the dune, bordering on the wetland, may be characterisedas an activity area as demonstrated by (colluviated) debris and evidence for fireand dropped waste. This area perhaps saw most of the daily activities of artefactand food-preparation. Finally, the third zone, the wetland margin, also yieldedartefacts, often of some size, which indicate the presence of a toss-zone (seeLouwe Kooijmans 2003). It should be taken into account that the threefolddivision witnessed is to a significant degree determined by processes such as slopewash, colluviation and decay, in combination with a slope gradient of 20%. Inthis respect the patterning observed is of a secondary nature, although it does,indirectly, relate to site-use as well. It is not known whether a similar division waspresent at other sites: at Oudenaarde the vicinity of the river Scheldt to the sitemight have led to a similar situation, while the sites at Swifterbant show evidenceof use of both the top and the slopes of the dunes.It is evident that some graded use of space probably applies to all sites that aresituated on an elevation, especially when these border on wet zones such as peatfens, or streams. The difference lies in the fact that at both Hardinxveld sites (andprobably at similar sites) there is a repeated use of these locations according tothe same rules for a period of several centuries. This is a distinct continuity thatshould be noted and that differs from the way in which sites and site complexeson the southern coversand develop.

5.4.5 Settlement investment: redundancy

A final element that may be informative about the characteristics of site structureand patterning is termed investment. Apart from representing intentionalinvestment in a site this also concerns the degree to which locations yield evidencefor repeated visits or occupation of sites. In this sense investment relates to thetopic of redundancy mentioned earlier. The means to establish this are limited.Radiocarbon chronology is fraught with difficulties related to sampling qualityand association of sampling location and material to the features and finds thatshould be dated (e.g. Van Strydonk et al. 1995; Cromb et al. 2012; see alsoChapter 4). Furthermore the taphonomical differences between sites in differentregions (Chapter 4) should be taken into account. Whereas the documentation oflithic artefacts will be influenced mainly by location and excavation methodology,the presence of features is strongly influenced by taphonomic processes and soilformation. The archaeological resolution is therefore necessarily low. As willbe discussed below the limited visibility of features may predominantly form aproblem at sites on the coversand.

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Two perspectives may offer an idea of investment. These include the

number and type of features at a site as well as the quantity or density ofartefacts. Investment in structures or facilities such as huts, pits, hearths, graves,windbreaks, or spatially delimited and distinct locations such as trash disposalareas etc., form an important indication for the permanency of occupation, or thelength of stay at a certain site (see Chatters 1987, 369; Kelly et al. 2005, 403). Itshould be noted that the internal structuring of these elements, is regarded as aneven more important indication for the length of stay (Kelly 1992). Furthermorethe variability of features as an indicative aspect of site duration and use will bediscussed.The ambiguity of features and facilities as solid indications for permanencyshould be noted as well and is related to the cross-culturally attested fact thatinvestment in sites is often related to the anticipated length of stay, instead of theactual length of occupation (Kent 1991, 56; Kent/Vierich 1989). Nevertheless,features, facilities and, to a lesser, more time-averaged extent, total amount anddensity of waste, form indications of energetic investment in a certain location,whereas anticipated stay is also informative on the expected potential of a certainsite.

5.4.5.1 Density and intensity

It was attempted to establish a site-bound indication of the relative density ofartefacts and features, taking into account the many related difficulties. To thisend all Late Mesolithic features and numbers of artefacts were positioned againstthe excavated or documented area of the site. Following this the overall differencesin density were also calculated per group. The data and results are presented intable 5.11 and fig. 5.8.Of course a number of taphonomic or excavation-related factors limit theextent to which sites are informative. At Brecht-Moordenaarsven 3 and TurnhoutZwarte Heide no excavation took place (see Appendix I). At Havelte only twoconcentrations could be attributed to the Late Mesolithic, half of one of which wasdisturbed (Price et al. 1974, 32). Although the total extent of these concentrations(225 m2) could be established, no artefact density could be established. Similarly,at Tietjerk not all concentrations were entirely excavated and most artefactswere found on the surface (Huiskes 1988, 46). Only those artefacts that couldbe traced to the groundplan could be used. At Hoge Vaart-A27 the similaritiesbetween the Late Mesolithic and Swifterbant lithic spectrum and the erosion ofthe Late Mesolithic surface prevented a reliable attribution of lithics to the LateMesolithic (Peeters 2007, 89, 95-97; Peeters/Hogestijn 2001, 49). The excavatedinformation is limited at sites such as Melsele and Oudenaarde. At the formerlocation no distinct spatial information for the Late Mesolithic was available,while at Oudenaarde the extent of the Late Mesolithic MESO I site was based oncharcoal and burnt bone (Parent et al. 1987a, 13).Taking the distortive factors into account, the observable trends are only generalindications. The relatively high artefact density documented for the sites on thesouthern coversand contrasts with the low density of features and their relativelyhigh density in the other groups. The low density registered for De Bruin and thehigh density at Melsele are influenced by problems of attribution (see AppendixI). The low density recorded for Helmond and for Jardinga, however, are most

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Table 5.11 Excavated area,

number of artefacts, andnumber and type of featuresper informative site.

Fig. 5.8 Counts for the density of

artefacts and features per m2 asdocumented for informative siteswithin the four groups defined.

454035302520151050southerncoversand

wetland/(margin)

density features x 100

Fig. 5.9 Artefact and feature

mean density artefacts

densities per group, notmean density artefactsmean density features x 100 including the artefact counts formean density features x 100Melsele and De Bruin and the

southernnortherncoversandcoversand

northernwetland/(margin)wetland/(margin) river valleycoversand

river valley

likely related to the specific function the sites had within the settlement system.Jardinga has been interpreted as a kill and butchering site, while Helmond waslocated at some distance from the main concentration. The high feature densityat Swifterbant-S83 is explained by the presence of five hearthpits within 8 m2(Jordanov 2005, 53).In the counts, omitting outliers, the overall differences are accentuated (seefig. 5.9). The sites in the northern and southern coversand group are characterisedby high densities of lithic artefacts, probably formed by chronologically distinctrepetitive events (e.g. Cromb et al. 2006), while investment in features, especiallyfor the southern coversand, is limited. Some surface hearths and pits may havebeen obscured by taphonomic processes, but the investments in features on thenorthern sandy soils, where similar post-depositional processes may be expected,is considerably higher. This is mainly caused by hearthpits which would alsohave been visible in the south. For Late Mesolithic sites in the wetland andvalley floor locations there are less high densities of lithic artefacts and for thewetland sites more of a balance between features and artefacts. This also relatesto a better preservation and therefore more precise attribution, but in the case ofsome wetland/(margin) sites it also appears to represent increased investment infrequently reused locations. The feature densities at the river valley sites are less

feature counts for S83 (total area

intensive, but qualitatively of a structural or fixed nature (stone platforms, hearth

bases).

5.4.5.2 Feature variability

Fig. 5.10 Counts per site for

features defined. Hearthpitcounts for Hoge Vaart,Marinberg and SwifterbantS22/23 are respectively 100,216 and 47. Note that countsabove 50 are not depicted.

While density only offers a coarse indication, the variability in features is perhapsless prone to taphonomic disturbance. To some extent a greater variability infeatures may correspond to a wider range of activities performed at a locationand signal increased investment. This may be substantiated by ethnographicinvestigations where the variability in features forms an important correlate forthe length of stay (Kelly 1992, 56; Kelly et al. 2005, 410). This is often related tosubsistence orientation (Kent 1991, 41). Below (fig. 5.10) feature variability hasbeen documented by scoring the number of features within each category per site(see also table 5.11). In fig. 5.10 the interpretation of six graves at Marinbergis plausible (see Appendix I; Louwe Kooijmans 2012b). Furthermore six groupsof collected structural stones at Bergumermeer have been scored as such. Thestructural stones at Nieuw Schoonebeek have been scored as one group.Feature variability on the southern coversand is low, comprising surfacehearths and occasional concentrations of burnt bone or hazelnut. This contrastswith the other groups. Hearthpits form an important component on the northerncoversand as well as in the wetlands. Furthermore hearths, pits, graves, structuralstones (manuports) and concentrations are found in those groups, includingpostholes and structures in the wetland group. Structures also form a type ofinvestment among the group of river valley sites in the vicinity of Lige. Again,a major factor in the contrasts witnessed is the combination of local taphonomyand excavation methodology, especially regarding the upland coversand areas(Groenewoudt 1994; Verhart 2000; Vermeersch 1989), yet the combination ofboth the density and variability differences also seem to indicate differences thatmay relate to differences in past behaviour and site use. It should thus be questioned

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to what extent absence of evidence might indeed mean evidence of absence at

these sites. In order to provide more context for the elements that Binford (2002,145) referred to as parts of the site framework a number of features will now bediscussed for sites in the different groups defined.

5.4.5.3 Hearths and hearthpits

Hearths form an obvious structuring element at sites. They are the locationsaround which a number of social and functional tasks are executed at all thesites studied. In this respect they act as hubs or anchor points around which animportant part of site structuring may take place.Coversand, wetlands and river valley: surface hearthsSurface or shallow hearths form a frequent phenomenon at sites in the southerncoversand landscape, but they have also been documented for the sites studiedon the northern coversand, as well as for the wetland and river valley sites. Forthe southern coversand group eleven sites yielded 21 hearths. Nine other sitesalso yielded evidence for the presence of hearths in the form of burnt artefacts,dispersed charcoal, concentrations of burnt fragments of hazelnut shells, burntbone and burnt fragments of quartz, quartzite and sandstone (e.g. WeeldePaardsdrank sector 4 or Meeuwen-In den Damp I).Apart from the degree to which hearths may be recognized (Sergant et al. 2006),the association of hearths to the excavated concentrations and the difficulties indating form a problem. As was noted previously (see Chapter 4, Cromb et al.1999) many charcoal and other 14C samples on the sandy soils yield aberrant datesdue to infiltration, absorption, or apparently unjustified assumed association. Ofthe twelve dated hearths, four yielded a Late Mesolithic age, four date to the Earlyand Middle Mesolithic, and four yielded dates that were far too recent. At BrechtMoordenaarsven even a stratigraphic difference between the hearths could not beconfirmed by 14C dates (see Vermeersch et al. 1992).Three hearth types could be distinguished, but it should be realised that weonly see those features that were deep enough to be preserved within the currentsoil stratigraphy. Most are surface hearths or shallow hearths with a depth of up to4 cm, containing ash and pieces and particles of charcoal. In some cases, however,notably at Merselo and Brecht-Moordenaarsven, hearthpits were defined. Inthese instances depths cluster between 10-15 cm. The deepest hearth, measuring34 cm was recorded at Merselo-Haag (Verhart 2000, 78). It should be taken intoaccount that hearthpits were originally deeper than the remaining depth belowthe plough zone, making the contrast between surface hearthsand hearthpits lessobvious. It is not known whether there were functional differences between thedeeper hearths and the surface hearths. Both sometimes contain some burnt andunburnt flint. One may argue that the deeper hearths are similar to the wellknown deep hearthpits from the northern sandy soils, which seem to have beenused for subsistence such as food processing or production-related activities (e.g.Groenendijk 2004, 22). These pits are, however, very uniform, cylindrical andoften c. 50 cm deep, with a layer of charcoal at the base and regularly occurring ingreat numbers (Groenendijk 2004; Verlinde/Newell 2006). This differs from themore irregular to oval, shallow and isolated hearth pits of the southern sandy soils.

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persistent traditions

It is not clear whether the digging of deeper hearths took place prior to the initialfiring, or is the result of the repeated cleaning out of the hearths.A second hearth type consists of a stone structure or hearth base, on top of orwithin which a fire was burnt. Dispersed evidence of these types of hearths hasbeen found at Meeuwen-In den Damp and Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 1. Thesite of Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil, however, yielded two well-preserved examples ofheavily burnt in situ hearthstones. According to the excavators the stones wereembedded several centimetres in the sand (Vermeersch et al. 1974, 91). Thesestone-based hearths may have had a different function, or were perhaps intendedas more permanent structures. The most distinct examples of these hearths arefound in the group of valley floor sites at Lige-Place St.-Lambert where a numberof cobble bases was constructed for the hearths (Van der Sloot et al. 2003, 9697). Another stone-based hearth was found at Namur-Grognon as well as someindications for similar features at Remouchamps (see Appendix I).A third variety is formed by secondary refuse as a result of the cleaning anddumping of hearth fills or trampling and blending and has been demonstratedat several sites. These processes resulted in more or less extensive patches of ash,charcoal and burnt artefacts. One of these was recorded at Merselo-Haag as hearth4, measuring 4 m2 and virtually no remaining depth. Some internal clusteringwas visible including pieces of charcoal. The origins and extent of these hearthdump locations may be related to the magnet effect of a primary dump on futurerefuse (Binford 2002, 155). Merselo also yielded additional patches of burntflint and charcoal, which could not be directly related to hearths (Verhart 2000,79). Similarly at Hardinxveld-De Bruin, a number of concentrations have beeninterpreted as the remains of hearths or dumps related to activities at the watersedge (Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 81). Another outlier is formed by thedispersed remnants of a structured hearth in sector 1 of Weelde-Paardsdrank. Oneshould be aware of the effects on hearths of so-called processes of smearing andblending described by Ascher (1968), as well as the preventive maintenance andclearing of activity areas (Binford 2002; Boaz 1998).Northern coversand and wetland margin: hearthpitsHearthpits have been discussed above in terms of their structuring properties. Theyappear at sites within the northern coversand group and the wetland (margin)group. Occasionally surface hearths are also found at these sites. The absence ofhearthpits cannot be explained taphonomically: surface hearths could have beenmissed on the northern sandy soils, but hearthpits would probably have shownup in the south.Sites with large numbers of hearthpits were often used over considerable timespans. As argued in 5.4.4.4 the limited intersection of pits indicates that theirlocations might still have been visible or known (Verlinde/Newell 2006; Peeters/Hogestijn 2001). The explanation may be that certain conditions for firing had tobe met, requiring avoidance of old pit fills (see Groenendijk 2004) or locations witheither too humid or dry and loose sand (Groenendijk/Smit 1990; Peeters 2007).The special character of hearthpits is further characterised by their standardizedround shapes (40-80 cm) and an average depth of 40-50 cm (Niekus 2005/2006,44). Micromorphological analysis has yielded evidence for both repeated cleaningand reuse of these features, as well as for a singular use after which the pit was filledagain (Hamburg et al. 2001; Peeters/Niekus 2005). Overall there is evidence for

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

165

long smouldering fires, although there are also indications for quick extinguishingof fires (Hamburg et al. 2001, 11). The charcoal in the predominantly dark pitfill often consists of oak, especially in the later phases of the Mesolithic (e.g.Verlinde/Newell 2006). The use of considerable blocks of wood indicates that thehearth pits were used for slow fires with a slow combustion (Wandsnider 1997).These could be used for food preparation and industrial activities and were highlymanageable (for ethnographic references e.g. Groenendijk/Smit 1990; Hamburget al. 2001; Wandsnider 1997). Indications for the use of these pits were foundat several sites. At Marinberg-Schaapskooi eleven hearthpits yielded up to fivecooking stones per pit (Verlinde/Newell 2006, table 7). At S22 at the bottomof hearth 4 a fragment of a Gerllkeule was discovered (De Roever 1976; 2004;Price 1981, 85). At Hoge-Vaart-A27 phosphate analysis indicated the presence oforganic saps from meat, bones or faeces, whereby the latter two might also havebeen used as fuel (Hamburg et al. 2001, 13). Next to finds of burnt animal bonesPerry distinguished various species of edible plants in pits at the site of NP3 (Perry1999). The production of tar (pers. comm. T. Hamburg/ L. Kubiak 2012) is avery probable possible function of these pits (Peeters 2007, 189).Hearth fills, use and spatial aspectsBurnt flint is only occasionally present within the fill of the hearths, in contrastwith the rather high percentages of burnt artefacts at some of the sites studied(between 15% and 51%; however see Sergant et al. 2006). The fills mostly consistof charcoal particles and ash. Identification of charcoal at Brecht-Moordenaarsvenyielded evidence for Quercus, Pinus, Betula and Salix. Charcoal analysis of MerseloHaag indicated the use of evenly grown wood with hardly any branches (Verhart2000; Vermeersch et al. 1992). This may be indicative of long-lived fires. A hearthat Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek yielded charred hazelnut shells and two pointedpieces of wood, possibly arrow shafts (Arts 1994). The hearth fills themselvesare thus not very informative as to the use of the hearths, but several sites haveyielded additional information. Apart from the already mentioned burnt flintseveral concentrations of charred hazelnut shell and burnt bone have been found,most notably at Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 5. Several hearths or dumps at DeBruin yielded concentrations consisting of combinations of burnt bone, charcoal,clay and fish remains (Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 81). It is plausiblethat hearths were used for tool manufacture and maintenance as well as variousdomestic purposes including food processing and cooking.There is little spatial information available. Verhart (2000, 79) is convinced ofthe absence of any spatial relationship between hearths and clusters at MerseloHaag and a similar conclusion has been drawn for the earlier Mesolithic byCromb (1994). On the other hand many of the Late Mesolithic sites studiedhere yield evidence for a considerable proximity and overlap of hearths and lithicconcentrations. At all sites where hearths are documented the main concentrationsof flint are within less than 3 m of the hearths. At Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 1and 5, Meeuwen-In den Damp and Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil there is also evidencefor activities such as flint working concentrating around the hearths (see Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; Pilati 2001; Vermeersch et al. 1974). Perhaps it should thereforebe concluded that while the direct association between hearths and artefact clustersremains difficult to establish, they do seem to be at least a spatially integral partof the Late Mesolithic site structure (grain) in the southern coversand landscape.

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persistent traditions

For the hearthpit clusters it may be argued that the increased labour and timerequirements involved in making and firing hearthpits (situating, excavating andcleaning of pits, gathering of fuel, preparing and managing the fire etc.) indicatethat an increased investment in site structuring was made at these locations.This may also explain the sometimes suggested spatial distinction between areaswith hearthpits and areas with artefacts. According to Schiffer (1995, 37) such adisparity might point to an increase in intensity of occupation.

5.4.5.4 Pits and postholes

Pits and postholes do not seem to occur at sites in the southern coversand landscape.Even in those instances where artefacts or even hearths are vertically situated inor near the C-horizon (as at Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil and Brecht-Moordenaarsven2), or where a possible palaeo-floor has been documented no features were found(see Vermeersch 1989, 289). On the northern sandy soils, pits and postholes arescarce. A number of other sites on the northern coversand yielded evidence forpits, although there too decapitation of the soil profile, erosion and soil formationprocesses will have obscured many features other than hearthpits (Beuker 1989,128; Peeters 2007, 89). A number of pits at Marinberg yielded evidence forburials as well as a pit at Dalfsen with cremated remains (Louwe Kooijmans 2012b;Peeters/Niekus 2005; Verlinde/Newell 2006). At Bergumermeer 28 features weredefined as pits. Furthermore Newell (1980, 257, 280) defined so-called drainageditches related to the presence of potential paths. These claims are currently underreview (NWO-Odyssey project led by Marcel Niekus; Niekus 2012). At HavelteH1 several elliptical and circular features were interpreted as pits. Price et al.(1974, 23) suggested a use as storage pits, but this is uncertain. At Marinbergsome smaller features were identified as postholes (Verlinde/Newell 2006, table7 and 10). Based on these results it may in general be concluded that dug-infeatures, other than hearthpits, were not a recurrent element of the site frameworkin this area.Within the group of wetland and wetland margin sites, Hoge Vaart yieldedsome features described as deep (hearth?) pits (Peeters 2007, fig. 4.7). HardinxveldPolderweg and de Bruin yielded several features that were interpreted as pits, twoof which (K5 and K8) were interpreted as hut features (see below). A numberof circular pits at both locations are probably hearth features (Hamburg/LouweKooijmans 2001, 79; Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 87). The function of theremaining pits at both sites is not clear. At De Bruin these were of variable size (50x 66 to 274 x 268 m). Some contained loam, ochre or charcoal (ibid.). All pits werelocated near the wetland contact zone at the foot of the dune at a distance of 1-3m (to avoid water welling up; ibid. 89). Polderweg also yielded 26 small featuresinterpreted as postholes or stakeholes ( 7-20 cm), one of which even containedthe original stake. Some seem associated with the large pits (K5, K7 and K8) andmay have served as some sort of superstructure related to either a shelter or hearth(Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 85). De Bruin also yielded quite a numberof smaller postholes and stakeholes (Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 98). Fourpostholes, including two larger ones dating to phase 1, were located at the footof the dune and might have formed some sort of structure. The others are foundon top of the dune in a relatively flat area and seem to represent a palimpsest ofrebuilt structures (ibid. 99). At Swifterbant-S11 (see Whallon/Price 1976) several

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moderately deep pits were found, spatially associated, but not overlapping withhearthpits and shallow hearths (cf. infra). It is possible that these pits can also beinterpreted as hearthpits due to the variation in size and fill of these features (seeHamburg et al. 2001; Peeters/Niekus 2005). At Swifterbant-S21-24 some vaguefeatures were interpreted as pits, although it is not clear whether they date to theLate Mesolithic occupation (De Roever 2004, 27). Some of the pits found at UrkE4 might have belonged to the Late Mesolithic occupation.The river valley site of Remouchamps (RSD) also yielded some evidence forposts in relation to a dwelling structure (cf. infra).In view of the taphonomic situation at many sites it is difficult to determineto what extent the presence and distribution of pits and postholes is a reflectionof past reality. Based on the counts available this type of investment appears to bebest represented in the group of wetland/(margin) sites.

5.4.5.5 Dwellings and other structures

Dwelling structures and other facilities form important indicators for the degreeof investment in locations and the level of permanency in occupation. This oftenrelates to the durability of these structures, although anticipated mobility in thissense also forms a factor to take into consideration (see Kent 1991, 56; Kent/Vierich 1989). It is likely that some form of shelter existed at many of the abovesites, especially under certain seasonal or weather-related conditions. Yet whilesome of the hearths and artefact distributions may have been located within theconfines of some sort of structure or dwelling no primary evidence of this has beenfound and any previously accepted hut-features must currently be discarded astree-fall features (e.g. Bubel 2002/2003; Cromb 1993; Kooi 1974; Newell 1980).The main reason for the absence of remains of huts or tents are the intensivepostdepositional processes preventing the preservation of organic remains andobliterating whatever features originally may have been present. It should on theother hand be expected that the architecture of these groups of hunter-gathererswill have been of an ephemeral nature, due to their mobile character (Binford1990; David/Kramer 2001, 282, 285; Gamble 1991, 1-4), and many locations maynot have had site architecture at all (see also Verhart 2000, 125-126). Identifyingthe presence of dwelling vestiges, especially on the basis of artefact distribution,remains a problematic endeavour.Southern coversand: Weelde-Paardsdrank-sector 5On the southern coversand only two sites have yielded limited indications forthe presence of a shelter (tent or hut), by the distribution of artefacts. The firstpotential dwelling structure is situated in the well-preserved sector 5 at WeeldePaardsdrank. It is characterised by a well-defined artefact cluster, measuring 7 x 3m along the axes. This distinct find pattern suggests a singular short-term activity,yet the quantity and diversity of finds, including organic remains is better inaccordance with a more structured frequentation of the location. The excavatorssuggest that the distinct delimitation of the cluster in this case may be relatedto some form of shelter (Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, 150, 197). Unfortunately,inadequate excavation of two squares (KP78 and KQ74) and the absence of a clear

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Fig. 5.11 Combined visual

hearth structure prevent a spatial analysis with the ring and sector method (Stapert1992), yet the confined pattern in combination with the relatively undisturbedcontext are visually suggestive of some sort of barrier (see fig. 5.11).Contrasting with the opinion of the excavators (Huyge/Vermeersch 1982,150) the diminution of finds on the eastern side of the supposed structure isnot less pronounced. It seems demarcated by a relatively sharp break runningthrough squares KO-KQ79. The distribution of finds to the east and southof these squares may reflect activities outside the structure or (door)dumps ofrefuse. The latter interpretation becomes more plausible if the location of theslope and fen to the south are incorporated. The working areas were probablyoriented to the south and southeast in view of the most economical use of waterand sunlight (cf. supra). Similarly the low density in squares KQ-77-78 may beinterpreted as an entrance oriented to the south. Concerning finds, sector 5

74

75

76

77

78

79

80

81kl

km

possible extentsstructure

H+B

kn

ko

kp

maintenance andproduction ofhunting equipment

kq

kr

ks

H = hazelnutB = boneC = charcoal

2m

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

kt

ku

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differs from the other two locations at Weelde-Paardsdrank in its concentrations

of burnt organic remains and the highest in situ artefact density. A closer look atthe lithic distribution seems to confirm a non-random distribution (see plans 5and 6 in Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; ibid. 151). Trapezia are mainly concentratedin the eastern part, both within and outside the main concentration, togetherwith most points and microburins, while blades tend to occur more frequently inthe west. Most cores are located outside the supposed structure, while more corerejuvenation flakes are found within. This could relate to preventive maintenancein which larger objects are removed from the activity areas (Binford 2002, 189).The pattern of activities represented in the lithic material seems to point to theproduction and maintenance of hunting implements, predominantly located inthe eastern part of the cluster and possibly associated with fire since 21.2 % ofthe artefacts are burnt (Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, 150). There is also evidence offurther activities (see fig. 5.11). Two concentrations of broken and carbonizedhazelnut shells were recovered in the northern part of the cluster, both withinand outside of the supposed structure, coinciding with the distribution ofcalcined fragments of bone.25 In the southwestern part, a considerable dump ofcharcoal was documented (ibid. 151). These organic concentrations are not onlyindicative of the cooking, processing and in the case of hazelnuts possibly thepreservation of food, but also point to specific waste behaviour. This is supportedby the correspondence of the highest density of lithic materials with a vacuum inthe distribution of burnt organic remains (ibid. 151).Southern coversand: Meeuwen-In den Damp IThe second possible dwelling structure for the southern coversand landscape isconcentration 1a at Meeuwen-In den Damp I. Pilati (1999; 2001; 2009) testedthe distribution of finds in an extensive study, both for the sitting model and bythe ring and sector method (Binford 2002; Stapert 1992). The potential structureis formed by a vaguely delimited in situ U-shaped pattern of c. 4 x 3 m (see fig.5.12). Although displacement of the finds took place (Bubel 2002/2003), theresulting pattern did not correspond with the distribution of tree falls (Cromb1993; Pilati 2001). Using the ring and sector method, the horizontal distributiondemonstrated an almost completely empty central zone within the horseshoepattern. More voluminous items were located outward, in line with the sittingmodel, but no clear bimodal distribution pointing towards a barrier effect couldbe discerned (Pilati 2001, 110-135). Although no primary hearth feature wasfound, indicative artefacts such as burnt flint, sandstone, quartz and microburinstend to cluster in the same locations, northwest and southeast of concentration1a. The cores are found mainly outside the concentration, similar to WeeldePaardsdrank, in this case roughly forming a surrounding arc, while rejuvenationflakes and tablets tend to cluster in the centre. It is remarkable that the wasteproducts of point manufacture, the microburins, are mostly situated in the centre,while worn-out points are located outside the production area and were thuspossibly thrown away (ibid.). Within the U-shaped pattern a further clusteringof several artefact types and RMUs can be made out, while squares N11-E17/18yielded evidence for a knapping spot. Refitting evidence confirms the location ofa centre of activity in the same square (Pilati 2001, fig. 6.1). Pilati (2001, 133135) argues, that the outside sitting model is supported by the circular structure

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Fig. 5.12 Lithic distribution

and the knapping spot. Still, he admits that there is no evidence for other activityareas in the circle, neither does the distribution of burnt items shed any furtherlight on things.His second hypothesis is based on the ring and sector method (Stapert 1992).In this scenario the remains of at least one knapping spot and the central hearthwere pushed outwards. There is some evidence for a centrifugal effect, althoughno clear bimodal distribution was recorded. The U-shaped pattern may, however,still be caused by the presence of a tent wall. The lateral concentric alignments ofartefacts located east and west of the concentration may furthermore indeed beinterpreted as refuse thrown out of two opposite entrances (see Pilati 2001; 2009).While Pilati (2001) favours the second model, neither of the two interpretationscould be confirmed.It can thus be concluded that at best certain hints of dwelling structuresare present at Weelde and Meeuwen, next to many more indications for outsideactivities. The absence of distinct primary refuse and the limited size of theconcentrations suggest rather small and mobile structures, like tents or lighthuts (see Karsten/Knarrstrm 2003, 37). These could be transported or madeexpediently out of locally available material (Binford 1990).

possible extentsstructure

N16

maintenance andproduction of huntingequipmentN12

concentrationmicrodebitage

N8

main coredistribution

= core= rejuvenationtablet/flake= microburin= point

N4

4m

N0E4

E8

E12

E16

E20

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Northern coversand: Bergumermeer-S64B

Similar to the southern coversand landscape no unambiguous dwelling structuresare known for the north. In most cases taphonomy and site formation processesare responsible for this. Erosion and especially the difficulty in distinguishingbetween anthropogenic and natural features hinder identification of structures(Cromb 1993; Newell 1980).26 Nevertheless, structures have been proposed forsome sites.The best-known potential dwelling structures have been found atBergumermeer-S64B (Bloemers et al. 1981; Casparie/Bosch 1995; Huiskes 1988;Newell 1980; Newell/Vroomans 1972; Odell 1980; Peeters/Niekus 2005; Niekus2012). Newell (1980) presented six hut features from this site in a critical reviewof Mesolithic dwelling structures (see also Appendix I). Their interpretation as hutfeatures is based upon a combination of structural elements (postholes, structuralstones), soil discolouration and a statistically attested relationship between thesupposed floor area and associated activity areas (Newell 1980, 257-258, 265).The hut features (c. 7.2-8 x 4-5.2 m) were visible as elliptical alignments of 17-22manuported stones coinciding with orange to yellow-orange soil discolourationsof 32-100 cm in width and with a depth of c. 11 cm (Newell 1980, 258 and fig. 3;see also Peeters/Niekus 2005, 212). According to Newell (1980, 260) the featuresoverlap with both the distribution of complete blades as well as the other classes offeatures and are regularly and orderly spaced on what appears to be an intentionalplan (ibid.).On the basis of the information and plans currently available, several criticalcomments can be made, relating to taphonomy, association, contemporaneity andcredibility. These include the many natural disturbances, problems of in situattribution, the limits of statistical testing, post-occupational infiltration of humicacids, which would explain the raised horizons, the location of the features withrespect to each other and their age, the absence of a cover until the Subboreal, thelong-term use of the site and the presence of earlier and later occupation episodes.A more detailed account of Bergumermeer and a review of the plausibility of itshut features has recently been conducted by Niekus within the NWO-Odysseyprogramme. With regard to the hut features the main conclusion is that thisinterpretation should be regarded as highly questionable (Niekus 2012). In thisthesis the supposed elliptical features of Bergumermeer will therefore not beinterpreted as hut features. The site did yield evidence of intensive use in the formof pits, postholes, hearthpits, and manuports over the entire extent of the ridge,as well as an assemblage of 123,746 artefacts, which is more than ten times largerthan most Late Mesolithic sites in the LRA. The long-term use of this location(see Appendix I) should however be taken into account.Northern coversand: structures at Havelte and Nieuw Schoonebeek?There is hardly any evidence available at the other sites for the existence ofstructures. At Havelte-H1 three shallow elliptical pits were found, measuring c.2-3 m in length, 1.5-2 m in width and c. 30-50 cm in depth. In one of thesea truncated part of the podzol horizon was documented, which suggests thatthese features may be interpreted as tree falls (Price et al. 1974, 23). It has beenmentioned though by several authors (Bubel 2002/2003; Cromb 1993) that treefalls excellently meet the basic requirements for dwelling structures. The presence

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of artefacts and charcoal within their fills might thus not be postdepositional insome cases. The site of Nieuw-Schoonebeek yielded 39 sizeable stones of differenttypes, probably collected at the nearby Hondsrug ice-pushed ridge. These stonesare interpreted as tent weights, in view of their dimensions and weight (Beuker1989, 161).Wetlands and wetland margin: Hardinxveld-PolderwegAt Polderweg the oblong pits K5 (8.5 x 3 m) and K8 (6.5 x 2 m), with a remainingdepth of 40-50 cm, were located on the slope of the dune. The bottom of both ofthese features consists of a compacted (trampled?) layer with organic material, yetthe fill was largely devoid of finds (see Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, fig. 4.7and 4.8). The features are associated with several postholes (cf. supra). Both pitsare accepted here as dwelling structures, more specifically sunken dwellings. Thisis substantiated by a comparison with archaeologically comparable features fromother (Late) Mesolithic sites such as Baarn-De Drie Eiken, Tgerup, Mllegabetand Lollikhuse (see Van Haaff et al. 1988; Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001,95; Karsten/Knarrstrm 2003, 37; Skaarup/Grn 2004, 41-74; Srensen 1992).27Furthermore, investment in partly dug-in or sunken hut structures has alsobeen documented ethnographically (see Binford 1990, 123). Unfortunately thedestructive colluvial processes prevent a correlation of these features with thedistribution of artefacts. Possible dwelling structures were also recorded for DeBruin. A large pit (K13a/b) in phase 2 shared some of the characteristics of thehut dwellings mentioned above, but actually consisted of two separate pits andcontained a burnt layer (Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 87-88).River valley: Lige Place St.-LambertAt Lige sector SDT yielded five stone pavements made up of blocks of sandstoneand other river gravels. Three of these (L287, L290, 09-0263) consisted ofdispersed concentrations of stones bearing traces of fire and are interpreted asnaturally or anthropogenically displaced hearths. The other two (L288, L289)are of similar size, but lack traces of fire. They consist of two layers of sandstoneand are well structured. Their interpretation is not clear (see Van der Sloot et al.2003, 96-97), but apart from hearths an interpretation as storage platform is alsopossible (Cribb 1991, 92-94).28The fact that these stone structures consist of two layers adds to the aspectof investment and possibly recurrent activities. For most of these structures acorrelation with one of the two Mesolithic occupations is possible (Van der Slootet al. 2003, 97-98). No detailed information has been obtained on the spatialrelationship between the lithic clusters and the stone pavements, although theyseem located north of, and partially overlapping with, the western cluster of lithics(compare Van der Sloot in prep. fig. 3 and Leotard et al. 1995, fig. 3). The otherstone structure, L500, was found in sector DDD and measured c. 4 x 4 m. Thestructure was angular to rounded in shape and also consisted of river cobbles.The pavement was located north of a depression, probably an old channel of theLgia. The pavement could not be dated directly, but most evidence points to a(Late) Mesolithic attribution (see Van der Sloot et al. 2003, 98; Van der Sloot inprep., 162). Importantly, the distribution of lithic finds is largely complementaryto the structure (ibid. fig. 19-21; see also Appendix I). The interpretation of thepavement is still open. While traces of fire have been found, the size and location

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of the structure points rather to a function as a base or drainage system for a tentor hut (Van der Sloot et al. 2003, 97). Remarkable is the increased density of thestone pavement in its northern section, which almost forms a circular feature.This is also the area where the largest stones are found (see Gustin et al. 1994, fig.2). The abrupt delimitation of the feature supports the idea that the layout andconstruction of the pavement was planned. This may have been time-consuming.Similar stone pavements of intermediate size (1 to 2 m) have been found in acomparable river valley context in midwest France at LEssart near Poitiers(Marchand et al. 2007). These have been interpreted as hearths, possibly relatedto the smoking of fish (ibid. 36). There are also several ethnographic analogies forthese structures (see Binford 1990, 127-128).River valley: Remouchamps-Station LeDucAt this site another stone structure was found, consisting of several accumulationsof quartzitic cobbles (up to 50 cm) in a roughly circular configuration. Insome parts there was a superpositioning of several layers up to 40 cm. Theoverall structure is semi-elliptic in shape, closed off towards the valley. In thesouthern opening of the structure another accumulation of gravels was found ina shallow pit. Within this accumulation a double hole containing fine gravels wasdiscovered. This feature is interpreted as a posthole (Gob/Jacques 1985, 167).Other features comprise a shallow pit (I25) filled with burnt stone fragments.Most gravels had been subjected to heat. On either side the pit was accompaniedby a large sandstone block and only a limited amount of charcoal was found.Another feature (C24) was located in the southernmost part of the dwelling andconsisted of burnt and fragmented sandstone blocks. Some of these were foundat the bottom of a nearby shallow pit (ibid. 167). Most of the calcined bonefragments and artefacts such as trapezes and backed blades were found outsidethe dwelling in the vicinity of feature C24. Other features include a grouping ofprepared cores (square E21), associations of psammite slabs and pebbles and thepresence of a knapping area around a sitting-stone (square H24; ibid.). Overallthe evidence points to a partially covered structure (Gob/Jacques 1985, 174) withan internal structuring of activities. Most activities took place outside aroundthe hearths. The excavators argue that the structural investment and the workinvolved in transporting several hundreds of kilos of stone indicate more than aprovisional investment (ibid. 174). The stones were probably collected from thebed of the nearby Amblve river.

5.4.5.6 GravesGraves and deposition of human remains, forming important aspects of mortuarypractice and therewith socio-ideological and ritual practices, can, to some extent,be interpreted as an indication of investment in a site, at least in the sense of aplace of some (symbolic) importance (e.g. Littleton/Allen 2007). Only a limitednumber of sites yielded evidence for burials dating to the Late Mesolithic (seeLouwe Kooijmans 2007b).29

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Northern coversand: Marinberg

The site of Marinberg yielded six features that have been interpreted as sittinggraves, found amidst a cluster of hearthpits (see Appendix I). The features consistedof a shallow funnel-shaped upper part (with unknown function) and a cylindricallower part (Verlinde/Newell 2005; 2006).

The fill of the pits was remarkable. It consisted of a 30-35 cm layer of thickred-coloured sand within which (groupings of ) artefacts were discovered,including several (retouched) blades, cores, blocks of flint, hammer stonesand sandstone polishing stones. The number of grave goods varies perfeature from 0-22 items (Verlinde/Newell 2005, 11-12; Verlinde/Newell2006). According to Louwe Kooijmans (2012b, 414) the red stained sandis probably not redeposited red sand, but resulted from the dissolution anddiffusion of a red substance (ochre) derived from an unknown source anddeposited at the same level. The sand was probably quarried at the settlement(it included the settlement waste that was found there) and the artefactswere coloured as well (see Louwe Kooijmans 2012b, 410-411). Time-wisethe features probably date to phase 3 or to the hiatus between phase 3 and4, roughly around 6000 cal BC. They therefore do not seem related to thedomestic areas with hearthpits at the site (see Louwe Kooijmans 2012b).The overall evidence indicates that the pits, because of their shape and content,were probably used for intentional deposition and the burial of human corpses(Louwe Kooijmans 2012b, 409, 415; Verlinde/Newell 2006). Based on comparativeresearch into European Mesolithic burial customs, however, the combination offeatures remains very unusual within the Mesolithic burial traditions of the LRA(for further information see Louwe Kooijmans 2012b; Verlinde/Newell 2013 andAppendix I).Wetlands and wetland margin: Hardinxveld

Next to isolated skeletal remains, Polderweg yielded a total of five graves, twohuman inhumations (G1, G2) and three dog burials (G3-5), of which one (G3)was in full anatomical articulation (Louwe Kooijmans 2003, 613). G1 containedthe remains of an elderly female, buried in stretched position (N-S) and datedto phase 0. The other burials, dating to phase 1, were found on top of the dune,while one of the dog burials (G5) was situated on the slope (Louwe Kooijmans2003, fig. 77.4). The burial pit was dug right before the occupation of phase1 and apart from the skeletal remains contained a few specks and one piece ofochre (Smits/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 421). The second grave contained skeletalremains of two individuals and no clear burial pit. The remains may have beenincomplete due to taphonomic activity or may have been purposefully removed.The most complete dog burial (G3) demonstrates the care that was taken in thedeposition of these valued animals.30 It is noteworthy that the burials (G2-G5)were located next to and in between other features dating to phase 1.In a similar position as at Polderweg, a human inhumation (G1) was found atDe Bruin, at the top of the dune (Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 99-100). Thegrave contained the skeletal remains of an adult man, buried in an E-W direction.The other grave (G2) contained an adult buried in a sitting position (LouweKooijmans 2003, 613). It is noteworthy that at both Polderweg and De Bruin the

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human burials were cross-cut by later pits indicating either unfamiliarity with ora lack of interest in the presence of these graves.While only two sites yielded positive evidence for Late Mesolithic burials,the presence of undated graves and small cemeteries, assumed to relate to theSwifterbant occupation at Swifterbant-S21-24 and S11-13, suggests that thesepractices probably had older roots. Furthermore, loose bone material has beenfound at a number of locations. While for the Swifterbant sites it can often notbe specifically related to either the Late Mesolithic or Early Neolithic phase ofoccupation (see Constandse-Westermann/Meiklejohn 1979, table 1), it should berealised that this phenomenon was relatively widespread (see Louwe Kooijmans2007b) and clearly has Late Mesolithic origins. As such it formed part of themortuary ritual practice, while the deposition of these remains may also havehad a structuring effect on the use of sites, or may be interpreted as a means ofinvesting in places.Recently another Mesolithic site in the vicinity, Swifterbant-Bisonweg, yieldeda stretched human interment of approximately the age of the oldest Polderwegburial. Further west, a Mesolithic site (Rotterdam-Beverwaard) situated on a riverdune (donk) west of Rotterdam yielded evidence of three pits with a small amountof human and animal cremation remains. These were dated earlier than the burialsincluded here, roughly between 7500 and 7000 cal BC (see Appendix I; Zijl et al.2011).31

5.4.5.7 Other elements

A number of other elements may be mentioned that indicate investment in acertain place. These include the structural stones (or manuports) that weredocumented at Bergumermeer and Nieuw-Schoonebeek, some of the features(large blocks etc.) at Remouchamps and Namur, and the potential fish weir atJardinga. Another element is formed by treefall features or trunks of trees thatmay have been incorporated in the site structure (e.g. Cromb 1993). Particularlythe wetland sites yielded evidence for additional investment. At HardinxveldDe Bruin a feature (A1) found in the contact zone between dune and water ishypothetically interpreted as a channel in connection with a landing stage forcanoes (Nokkert/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 105). The site also yielded evidencefor canoes, paddles (also at Polderweg) and part of a fishtrap. Obviously these arepartially non-structural investments that were documented because of the goodpreservational conditions. On the other hand they also point to investments thatare (energetically and time-wise) relatively costly and furthermore are a particular(structural) part of wetland occupation.

5.4.6 Late Mesolithic sites and settlement system in the LRA:

defining settlement grammarAbove, a number of aspects of Late Mesolithic sites and site use have been discussed.These focused on three perspectives or scales (texture, grain and redundancy;see Cribb 1991) that dealt with the position of sites in the landscape and sitelocation choice, the characteristics and elements underlying site structure and theinvestment in sites as determined by density and feature variability. As was alreadystressed a number of times, our perspective is necessarily skewed because of thedistinct differences in taphonomy and site formation processes between sites and

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in relation to the different groups defined. This does not prevent the detection oflarger scale trends and characteristics shared by a number of sites, and per themeit is possible to sketch a general outline and detect similarities and differences.Despite the limitations of the macro-scale variables discussed, these elementsprovide a preliminary framework for investigating the settlement grammar ofLate Mesolithic occupation in the study area. Below a characterisation per groupis given based on the combined information presented above.

5.4.6.1 The southern coversands: consistent patterning

For sites on the southern coversand there seems to be a distinct link betweenthe factors that characterise site location choice and the structure of these sitesthemselves. Most sites are situated on the top or the slopes of coversand dunesor ridges, often facing south and in the vicinity of water in the form of peat fens(meres) and streams (e.g. Van Gils/De Bie 2008; Van Gils et al. 2009). Water,increased biodiversity and raw materials were probably the main incentives foroccupation (see Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, 151; see also Randolph Daniel Jr. 2001).Nevertheless, the frequent visits to sites may have taken on a dynamic of their ownin a social sense, adding to their development as persistent locations (Schlanger1992). The frequency and character of these visits is furthermore expressed inthe way sites develop. Apart from the potentially structuring and centralizingfeatures of hearths (e.g. Sara 2006, 277; Stapert 1992) these sites are shaped byconcentrations of lithic debris that cluster on the slope or the top of dunes andridges, often parallel to the waterfront. These scatters of clusters and concentrationsoften develop over a considerable stretch of terrain (Van Gils/De Bie 2003).Although some of these concentrations resulted from contemporaneous activities,radiocarbon and typological information point to their development over oftenextensive periods of time (see for instance Merselo-Haag, Brecht-Moordenaarsvenand Weelde-Paardsdrank in Appendix I). They represent accumulations of manyrelatively short-term and unstructured occupations. It is therefore not so much thepersistency of actual places or sites, but rather the consistency in conditions thatshapes the formation of these complexes (Amkreutz 2009; Vanmontfort et al. 2010;Vanmontfort et al. in press). Although severely hampered by taphonomic factors,the short-term nature of frequent repetitive visits to these sites is substantiatedby the unstructured characteristics of site development and the relative absenceof investment in structures and facilities. Apart from evidence for surface hearthsonly two sites yielded limited indications for lightweight shelters or tents.Interpreting short-term staysA reason for the supposed short-term nature of occupation that characterises theelaborate site complexes in for instance the Campine area, may stem from thelocal geomorphological and ecological situation. The area is best characterised asmainly densely forested, in the shape of a closed-canopy deciduous Atlantic forest(e.g. Bakels 1978; Gregg 1988; Svenning 2002). In this type of landscape locationsnear peat fens of streams would be the most attractive areas for settlement, becauseof the proximity of water and occasionally lithic resources, but also because ofthe diversification in vegetation and the attractiveness to wildlife. Hypotheticallythese sites may be interpreted as resource patches, acting as nodes in the mobilitycycle of the groups inhabiting the area. Although they are rather numerous (e.g.

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Vermeersch et al. 1992, 5; Van Gils/De Bie 2008), they are not very extensive,which would require a residential move as soon as resources diminished. Thishelps to explain the numerous sites that have been found as well as the factthat they are often extensive, both aspects relating to the frequency of visits tosuitable locations over many centuries. These locations, rather than being pointspecific, are characterised by the existence of (expectable) consistent conditions,along the extent of a geomorphological feature such as a dune or ridge. It wasthese consistent conditions that were sought after, instead of particular places(Amkreutz 2009; Vanmontfort et al. in press). Recent research in the Campine areaof northern Belgium has furthermore pointed out some differences in occupationintensity at some of the sites (Van Gils/De Bie 2008; see also Robinson 2007b;cf. infra). These could be related to a variety of environmental factors such as rawmaterial abundance, reliable availability of water in the depressions encountered,or accessibility of site locations. Next to these push and pull factors socialconsiderations involving territoriality or significance of certain places should beconsidered (e.g. Schlanger 1992).From a behavioural perspective, similar models regarding the sustainabilityof environments have been put forward. Ethnographically oriented patch-choicemodels give some insight into forager behaviour in these situations (Kelly 1995).They assume return-rates are highest upon entering a patch and (gradually)decrease until a point of diminishing returns is reached with rates dropping belowthe rates of expectancy levels elsewhere (Kelly 1992, 46; see also Sahlins 1972, 33).The subsequent decision to abandon the patch is based upon the cost of movingand encountering another patch (questions of time and energy). Furthermore, itis assumed that foragers do not return to a patch until its resources are rejuvenated(Kelly 1995, 90). When this perspective is applied to the Campine area, it mayhelp us understand the archaeological patterning. The sustainability of theindividual areas where resources cluster, such as peat fens and stream valleys mayhave been low, but at the same time the costs of moving were also low and theoverall number of patches ensured regeneration over time. This would lead to asystem of relatively high residential mobility (sensu Binford 1980).

5.4.6.2 The northern coversands: differences of degree

The recurrent characteristics that shape Late Mesolithic occupation on thesouthern coversand only partially determine the grammar of sites in the othergroups. On the northern coversand a number of sites is also characterised by lithicconcentrations and clusters (e.g. Havelte, Nieuw-Schoonebeek and Tietjerk).These sites also yielded some hearthpits as well as other features. Apart from thesethere is another group with sites such as Bergumermeer and Marinberg that arecharacterised by a greater number of structural elements: very high artefact countsat Bergumermeer in combination with a considerable number of structuringelements in the form of pits, hearthpits, structural stones and other features; atMarinberg low artefact densities in combination with large numbers of hearthpitsand, incidentally, graves (see Louwe Kooijmans 2012b). Apart from evidence forincreased investment in locations, the clusters of hearthpits indicate a degree ofspatial structuring. Direct evidence for dwelling structures is scarce.

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Based on the characteristics in site location choice, sites on the northern

coversand appear to be more oriented to larger ecotones, for instance Marinbergto the Vecht valley, Bergumermeer to lake Bergumermeer, and Tietjerk andSchoonebeek in between a number of stream valleys. There are, however, also distinctsimilarities between settlement location choice in this area and the south. Similarlocations - elevations in the vicinity of water - were sought after. Furthermore, theoverall signature is that of a coversand landscape largely comparable to that inthe south, although there are obvious differences in for instance subsoil (morainedeposits), water systems, drainage and, later on, intensity in peat growth (seepalaeogeographical map 5500 cal BC; Vos et al. (eds) 2011, 43). Although thelimited site evidence available does point to differences in structure and investmentat sites, these should be interpreted as of degree rather than kind.

5.4.6.3 Wetland (margin) and river valleys: a different type of

occupation?There is a difference between the type of wetland settings within this group,with Polderweg and De Bruin forming one end of the spectrum. The othersites, most notably those of the Swifterbant cluster, Hoge Vaart and Urk aresituated in landscapes that are becoming increasingly wet. Evidently, several ofthe Swifterbant sites characterised by hearthpits as well as the Late Mesolithicphases with hearthpits at Hoge Vaart and Urk (see Peeters 2007; Peters/Peeters2001) may be compared to some of the sites in the northern coversand group. Theinformation for Oudenaarde and Melsele is too limited to compare, but positiveevidence of dug-in features fails. Where the former sites are characterised byconsiderable numbers of hearthpits, these are largely lacking at the latter. Favouredby good preservation, Polderweg and De Bruin yielded a variety of other features,including pits, postholes, possible dwelling structures and graves, next to (only) afew hearthpits. This points to a diversified structural investment, correspondingwith the use intensity and level of permanency of occupation demonstrated forthese sites (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2003). The structuring of individual elementsat sites and their patterning and location with respect to each other can best bestudied at the Hardinxveld sites, where there is evidence of intra-site zonation(Louwe Kooijmans 2003, 610). The top and upper slopes of the dunes yieldedmost features, including the supposed sunken dwellings at Polderweg. The lowerslope and foot of the dune, bordering on the wetland, probably formed an activityarea as demonstrated by (colluviated) debris and quantities of charcoal indicativeof hearths. The wetland margin yielded artefacts, which indicate the presence ofa toss-zone (see Louwe Kooijmans 2003). As argued earlier (section 5.4.4.3) thisdivision, although reflective of a zonation in the use of the site, is to a significantextent shaped by (post-)depositional processes in relation to the gradient of theslope. Currently a similar tripartite division has not been documented as distinctlyat other wetland sites. At least for the main domestic occupation phase (phase 1,c. 5500-5300 cal BC) the zoned use of the site indicates a structured and repeateduse of domestic space at the same location according to the same principles.All this time it was the same location to which people returned and which theystructured according to the same set of rules. Because of the increasingly limitedavailability of other suitable places in the surrounding area (see Mol 2001a) andthe continued structured layout it is also likely that we are dealing with the same

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group of people. Based upon one of Schiffers general rules (1995, 37), thereis an inverse relationship between increased intensity of occupation and spatialcorrespondence between use and discard locations. While this does not precludethe factor of anticipated mobility (see Kent 1992; Kent/Vierich 1989) it basicallymeans that the level of spatial structuring at sites that are inhabited for moreprolonged periods of time will be greater than that at sites that are not. The dunetop sites of Hardinxveld in this respect differ distinctly in character from the siteson the southern coversand.Additionally, increased investment in sites is also documented for the rivervalley sites; at Lige in the form of stone pavements or platforms and stonehearthbases, consisting of multiple layers; at Remouchamps perhaps in the formof a covered structure or hut. This may imply as well that these sites, because oftheir increased investment, potentially saw increased site structuring in relationto more extended stays.Aquatic perspectivesAn important reason for the different signature of the sites in the wetland group,in particular Hardinxveld, may be taphonomy in relation to site location choice.Naturally, a well-preserved site at a small location in the wetlands will leave adifferent archaeological signature than an extensive upland coversand site. Fromthis it follows that many of the noted differences between the documented sites aregradual, rather than fundamental and relate to the specific local circumstances ofpreservation. Next to this, however, it is also evident that not all the landscapes inthe regional groups defined here are comparable and that regions are characterizedby different ecological and geomorphological circumstances, which providedifferent habitational windows. The differences that are noted with respect tothe issues discussed above are most distinct in comparison to wetland locationsand in particular the Hardinxveld sites. This may be explained by the fact thatthe wetland and wetland margin sites are situated in a landscape with a widearray of aquatic resources. These offer different opportunities and margins foroccupation and mobility and, as indicated by a wide variety of anthropological andarchaeological research (e.g. Ames 2002; Binford 1990; Coles/Coles 1989; Kelly1995; Out 2009; Nicholas 2007a,b; Van der Noort/OSullivan 2006), allow forlonger stays and a general decrease in mobility. Seasonal information at Polderwegfor instance indicated that the site was used in phase 1 as a seasonal base campduring winter and that De Bruin might have functioned as a subsidiary site invarious seasons (Louwe Kooijmans 2001b; 2003). To some extent the wetland anddeveloping wetland landscapes of the Rhine-Meuse delta, the Scheldt valley andthe IJssel-Vecht area are an inverse image of the upland coversand area.Not including the special activity site at Jardinga, the sites in the river valleygroup, situated near Lige next to the Meuse or one of its tributaries, are alsocharacterised by an aquatic setting, in this case a river or stream. At Lige limitedfaunal indications point to seasonality (see Lpez Bayn 1994), indicating ahuman presence in late winter and/or early spring. The faunal and fish remainsat this site as well as at Namur also form positive evidence for both the richenvironment within which the sites were located and the fact that most of theavailable resources were indeed exploited. In this respect the river valley locationsmay also be interpreted as relatively rich and diverse settings, and comparable to

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some extent with respect to their economical opportunities to the wetlands

and wetland margins.

5.4.6.4 Interpreting variability

The contrasts sketched above are based on a limited number of sites and onlyform a rough indication of the variability that must have been present withinthe Late Mesolithic. The main contrasts that stand out are found in the typeof occupation that characterises the southern coversand landscape and wetlandsites such as both Hardinxveld locations. From the perspective of mobility andsettlement systems it was hypothesized that these differences potentially relatedto the different opportunities offered and constraints imposed by the wetlandaquatic environment on the one hand and the upland coversand region on theother. This type of model also explains the differences in settlement structure andinvestment with long-term place-bound behaviour on the one hand and a searchfor consistent conditions and elaborate site complexes on the other. However, thesesites or systems cannot be studied in isolation. They characterise the variabilityof Mesolithic occupation in different types of landscape, but should also beunderstood as parts of the settlement system of mobile communities and shouldtherefore be further contextualised, both geographically as well as functionally. Inorder to create a better understanding of the different types of sites and settlementsystems in general, it is important to gain insight into the range of activities thatcharacterises them. In the following section the lithic toolkit of the documentedsites will therefore be further analysed.

5.5 Lithic assemblage analysis

This section reviews the technological and typological aspects of the studied lithicassemblages, including raw material composition (Wommersom quartzite andother stone materials).The composition of the lithic assemblages of the studied sites forms acomplementary perspective on Late Mesolithic site use that is relatively lessaffected by different conditions of preservation in comparison to for instancefeatures, site structure or organic remains. Of course other site-formative andexcavation-related distortive factors do apply (see Chapter 4), which influencesthe comparability of some assemblages.The aim of the analysis is to discern to what extent the lithic assemblagecomposition provides information on site use, mobility strategies and thesettlement system. This involves the pinpointing of general characteristics of thesites and defined groups as well as differences among them. In combination withthe other aspects of sites mentioned above, this may shed light on the diversitybetween Late Mesolithic sites and the presence or absence of larger-scale contrastsbetween regions.

5.5.1 Theoretical background

Lithic procurement, stone tool production and artefact use form part of thespectrum of activities performed at sites. The relative importance of these activitieswithin and between different sites may highlight similarities and differences insite use or function. Since all sites to some extent are buried surface collections

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(Binford 1987b), the composition of the lithic assemblages reflects site functiononly in part, but may be used to detect more coarse-grained patterns between(groups of ) sites. This is based on the premise that certain aspects of stone tooltechnology and the composition of the lithic toolkit relate to activity spectrum,site use and mobility (e.g. Andrefsky 2005; Bamforth 1986; 1991; Binford1983(1976); 1983(1979); Bleed 1986; Kelly 1992; Shott 1986; Torrence (ed.)1989).32 The aim is to see whether general characteristics may be defined.

5.5.1.1 Curated and expedient technologies and toolkits

Many factors influence community- or agency-based choices in technology andtoolkit composition (Bamforth 1991, 217). These include aspects such as tradition,raw material distribution and risk minimization. Since not all of these can beaccounted for, partly because of differences in recording (see below), it is necessaryto base an analysis on more general robust categories of assemblage types. One ofthese is the distinction between curated and expedient technologies.Curated technologies, often characterized as efficient, are aimed at theproduction of formal tools and generally involve extensive maintenance, repair andreuse of material. They are often blade-based and require considerable investmentin time and energy. This contrasts with expedient technologies, which are moregeared towards an ad hoc production of technologically simpler and formally lessdistinct, often flake-based, tools. This type of technological system is generallymore wasteful with respect to raw material (e.g. Andrefsky 2005; Bamforth 1986;Binford 1983(1976); 1983(1979); Torrence 1983).Although characterized by (functional) overlap (e.g. Bamforth 1986, 39-40;Kelly 1992, 55-56), there is a general difference between curated and expedienttechnologies. It should be noted though that while a general distinction betweenflake and blade contributions to the studied assemblages is possible, this is notabsolute as site assemblages almost always include both. Furthermore, flakes arealways overrepresented since they form part of the initial stages of blade-baseddebitage. Another factor is the general absence of use-wear analysis for most sitesstudied, which limits the degree to which the purpose of unmodified flakes canbe determined. This is also the case with blades, although their design in generalincludes intentionality. Finally, with respect to tools, it is difficult to establisha singular distinction between curated and expedient components. While tooldesign (see also Bleed 1986; Kuhn 1994) leading to formal tools may be seen as anaspect of curated technologies, not everything that does not classify as a retouchedflake falls within this category. Curated and expedient technologies and toolkitswith curated or expedient elements do not lend themselves to a black and whitedistinction. There will be overlap and combinations, yet an emphasis in bladetechnology and an increased contribution of more formal tools points to (more)curated behaviour. It is therefore the comparison of more general aspects of thelithic assemblage that points to differences between sites and groups. The mainimplications of these differences between technologies, involving anticipationwith regard to future tasks and functional diversity in relation to these, will bediscussed below.

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Cores and core rejuvenation

An aspect of the distinction between curated and expedient technologies is formedby the contribution of cores. As cores have been interpreted (archaeologicallyand ethnographically) as regularly transported parts of personal gear (Binford1983(1979); see also Andrefsky 2005), their contribution and that of corerejuvenation flakes points to the relative importance of a mobile toolkit.Unfortunately, at many of the studied sites no distinction has been made in thetypes of cores present (blade or flake).

5.5.1.2 Assemblage composition

Another indication of site function and related behavioural aspects is the assemblageand toolkit composition. Observed differences and similarities between thetypological composition of (groups of ) sites relate to different typological choices.From a general perspective, certain shifts in emphasis between the typologicalspectra of sites relate to different emphases in performed activities, site functionand the settlement system. It should be noted as well that tool morphology is notdirectly informative on tool function or performed activities. Scrapers, retouchedblades and flakes and even points have been used for a variety of tasks. Usewear analysis has only been performed for a limited number of sites and oftenonly gives a general indication of contact material and motion of performance.This indicates that it is not possible to identify all activities performed, nor tocharacterize site function based on stone tool typology alone. Again the aim is todetect more general characteristics.

5.5.1.3 Aspects of mobility and site use

Both the technological distinction between curated and expedient industries andthe assemblage composition provide information on the activity range performedat sites, site function and mobility. Subsequently it is of importance to relateand interpret these characteristics to ethnographical and behavioural models andtheory.With regard to expedient and curated technologies it is generally acceptedthat, also in relation to lithic source locations, the relative contribution of flakesand blades may be informative on (aspects of ) mobility. Curated technologiesand formal tools are often typical for groups with a high(er) level of residentialmobility. Tools are often flexibly oriented, multifunctional and can be rejuvenatedor redesigned. They are made in anticipation of and preparation for tasks ahead,when the risk of being unprepared is too high. Expedient technologies and informalor non-standardized tools are more typical for groups with a lower mobility andlonger residential stays. Tools are used and discarded over a short period of timeand are manufactured according to need. This often entails that there is littleuncertainty with regard to the availability of lithic resources (see Andrefsky 2005,226-227; Binford 1983(1979), 275-286; Kelly 1992, 55; Torrence 1983, 11-13).Although it has been argued that the distinction between curated andexpedient technologies is not absolute (Bamforth 1986, 49; Chatters 1987, 341),proportional differences may prove insightful.

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Cores and transport costs

Additionally the contribution of cores may prove informative. As regularlytransported parts of personal gear (cf. supra), cores function as a mobile supplyof raw material (Binford 1983(1979), 276-277; Kelly 1988, 719) from whichflakes or blades can be struck according to need. Evidently, transport costs andportability form important factors (e.g. Shott 1986; Torrence 1983). Cores couldalso be used as hammers, anvils, cleavers or chopping tools (ibid.). Althoughinfluenced by factors such as raw material distribution (see Bamforth 1986, 48), itcan be argued that cores functioned as important elements for flexibly facilitatingmobility and various (unanticipated) tasks.In contrast other studies in optimization modeling have demonstrated thatit is also efficient to carry around small implements such as finished tools andblanks instead of cores (Kuhn 1994, 437). While combinations of both strategiesappear likely, the choice to incorporate cores is related to increased flexibility inproducing what is needed at a certain time, and, perhaps, the aforementionedbulk of a core.Implications of assemblage compositionWhile the technological characteristics introduced above are mainly informativewith respect to mobility, the typological composition of the assemblages studiedmay, in relation to this, provide a more detailed perspective on site function.This is based upon the correlation between assemblage diversity and site type (seeAndrefsky 2005, 216-218). According to Kelly (1992; 1995) the degree, frequencyand distance of residential mobility have important effects on the character andactivities of groups of hunter-gatherers, as evidenced by ethnography. This inturn influences archaeologically measurable variables such as site structure andstone tool technology (cf. supra). Shott (1986), on the basis of ethnographicallydocumented groups of hunter-gatherers, has correlated assemblage diversity andmobility. He discovered an inverse relationship between assemblage diversity andfrequency as well as magnitude of mobility (see fig. 5.13).

Artefact Diversity

high

Fig. 5.13 Generalized

The underlying idea is based on the notion that artefact diversity varies indifferent systems of mobility (see Andrefsky 2005, 218; Binford 1980, 17-19).The basic premise is the difference between a limited length of stay and thereforea limited spectrum of activities, as witnessed in short-term base camps or specialactivity sites, and more extended stays and a broader spectrum of activities asexpected at longer term base camps (see Shott 1986). This difference is assumed tobe reflected in the number of tool classes or artefact diversity at these locations.When applying this modulation to the groups of Late Mesolithic sites selectedhere, it should be realized that almost all sites have at least some artefacts perdesignated class, since the assemblages are in fact, at least to a certain extent, timeaveraged amalgamations of multiple and divergent visits to the same location.While this limits the degree of detail, the general emphases in the artefact spectrumrepresent functionally characteristic choices, especially where a distinction inmore formal tools and tools of an ad hoc nature may be distinguished, or at siteswhere one or more tool classes are dominant. The absence of more specific spatiotemporal information with respect to the toolkit therefore does not have to standin the way of analysis (see for example Bamforth 1991, 228).

5.5.2 Characteristics of the lithic datasets

The analyses are based upon the categorized counts of lithic artefacts in theavailable literature. These were subsequently scored for a number of typological,technological and raw material variables. They are presented in Appendix II fortechnology (IIA), typology (IIB) and raw material (IIF-H). Before analyzing theresults a number of distortions should be taken into account. These relate todealing with archaeological assemblages shaped by a variety of factors.Limits of the datasetFirst, not all of the typological and technological categories used in the originalliterature are similar and some categories are not recorded for all sites. This limitsthe available detail and necessitates the merging of categories (see also AppendixII for site-specific comments). Most general categories do prevail at all sitesindicating that a general analysis and characterisation is possible. Other secondaryfactors include differences in excavation methodology (e.g. was surface materialincluded, did sieving take place, what part of the site was excavated, etc.).Other limitations derive from more primary factors, some of which have beendiscussed in Chapter 4. Of major importance are spatio-temporal considerations.Especially in the coversand landscape, sites lay exposed and were used for aconsiderable period of time. This means that in most cases excavations form aspatial selection of temporally diverse uses of the site. These may involve the mainuse of a location, but also more singular special activity events. Since assessing usetime and intensity is often impossible only a blurred generalized image of siteuse is attainable. Major factors are excavation methodology, site taphonomy andmulti-period sites. Next to this, lithic information is restricted by the functionallimits of typology in combination with the absence of use wear and the regularlack of an organic component.Apart from these factors that impinge upon the nature and resolution of thedata-set available, the general context (both physical and social) of past site useforms a factor as well. An example is formed by the ecological properties of the

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past environment surrounding sites (what activities were likely to occur), or theavailability of (types of ) raw material. Moreover, it should be taken into accountthat many aspects of the diversity in hunter-gatherer lifeways, as documentedethnographically (e.g. Kelly 1995), may be generalized, but often escape archaeological detection. Technological choices and typological composition in thisrespect are also (at least partly) influenced by factors such as group traditions andknow-how, individual preference and anticipated tasks. This means that from anarchaeological and behavioural perspective, the observed characteristics amongthe studied sites should be interpreted, not as absolute indicators of mobility andsite function, but as general stresses in relation to these issues. Also it should benoted that the diversity documented may be rooted in a number of different, nonexclusive factors.Sites, groups and emphasesThe lithic assemblages studied are site-based datasets. These are shaped by thefactors mentioned above and are interpreted as generalized images of past site use.The aim in this section however, is to detect regional characteristics for the groupsdefined above. Therefore intra-group similarities or differences are regarded asindicative of the homogeneity of (generalized) site use in a certain area. Severalaspects should be defined.

In line with the analyses above, the southern coversand group is relativelylarge and forms a representative sample of site use in that region, whilesite numbers for the other defined groups are limited. This means that acomparative analysis centres on similarities and differences with respect to thesouthern coversand group.

While the assemblage characteristics may be influenced by a number of factors

(see above and Appendix II), it is apparent that sites with a special characteror with too limited artefact numbers overall should be excluded, because theyintroduce a bias to the general perspective. Two sites fall into this categorybeforehand. The first is Jardinga-Johannahoeve in the river valley sites group.This site (see Appendix I; Prummel et al. 2002; Prummel/Niekus 2002/2003)may be categorized as a special activity butchery site (of aurochs) on thebanks of the Tjonger stream. Its lithic assemblage is limited in counts andrange, which confirms its specialized nature, but makes it inappropriate forcomparison. The second excluded site is Swifterbant-S83 (see Appendix I;Jordanov 2005). The assemblage derives from two small test trenches andis partly of a Middle Mesolithic date. Furthermore the tool spectrum is(numerically) too small.

In the analyses presented below sites with a dataset that is quantitatively toolimited for the category under analysis will be excluded from consideration.Since this may differ per category and comparison, these exclusions will bementioned in the text.

In dealing with the variables discussed below it should be taken into accountthat while the aim is to detect (regional) characteristics in site use and mobility(cf. supra), there may be a range of alternative explanations, not all of whichwill have materialized archeologically.

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5.5.3 Technological characteristics

Below a number of technological characteristics of the studied lithic assemblageswill be discussed. As argued above differences in recording limit the degree to whichall aspects of sites may be compared. With respect to technology the distinctionbetween blade and flake cores was only recorded at eight sites. Also, often it isnot specified whether cores are exhausted or fragmented, if truncated blades arepresent, or what the character of core rejuvenation products is. For the samereason counts of fragments, chips or debris have been left out of the analysis sincethese are heavily dependent on excavation procedure and personal attribution.The remaining categories are formed by cores, core rejuvenation products, blades,flakes, microburins, burin spalls and tools. These are presented in fig. 5.14.In total 26 sites yielded information on the technological composition ofthe assemblage, with an emphasis on the southern coversand landscape group.33The relatively large contribution of tools for Brecht-Overbroek and HelmondStiphoutsbroek may result from the incorporation of surface finds. The overallcomposition is however not affected.In fig. 5.15 the results are combined per group. While numerically only thesouthern group is well represented some of the contrasts are interesting and reflectthe distribution in fig. 5.14. Apart from the relatively large tool component atwetland sites, which will be discussed further on, the most apparent technologicalcharacteristic is the difference in the contribution of flakes and blades. Thecontribution of cores and core rejuvenation flakes also deserves mention.

5.5.3.1 Blades and flakes

As argued above blade- and flake-based industries offer a perspective on thetype of technological system practised and its potential implications. Fig. 5.16presents the contribution of flakes and blades per site.34 Sites on the southerncoversand are characterised by a considerable contribution of blades, while thisis less so for sites on the northern coversand or in the wetland group. This is

Fig. 5.14 Percentages for

technological categories persite. Total counts in brackets.See also Appendix IIA.

100%80%60%40%

tools

20%

burin spalls

southern coversand

northerncoversand

Lige-PS-SDT (9419)

Lige-DDD (1248)

Remouchamps-SD (588)

Hdx-DB phase 1 (178)

Hdx-PW phase 0/1 (3045)

Swi erbant-S22 (231)

Swi erbantB-S23 (2168)

Marinberg-S (4181)

Havelte-DD-H1-II (611)

Nieuw Schoonebeek-S (6063)

Meeuwen-ID1-1a (4486)

Turnhout-ZH (2056)

Meeuwen-ID1-1b (331)

Merselo-H (2778)

Helmond-SB (1004)

Opglabbeek-R (858)

Brecht-O2 (308)

Brecht-O1 (404)

Brecht-O3 (199)

Brecht-TH (2264)

Brecht M-2 (7838)

Weelde-P4 (4152)

Weelde-P1 (4742)

Weelde-P5 (3447)

Brecht M-1 (798)

Dilsen-DIII (3645)

0%

wetland/(margin) river valley

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d (3)

d (3)

bladesakescorescore rejuvena onmicroburinsburin spallstools

southern coversand (16)

wetland/margin (4)

northern coversand (3)

wetland/margin (4)

river valley (3)

bladesakescorescore rejuvena onmicroburinsburin spallstools

wetland/margin (4)

river valley (3)

the case both at sites with completely excavated assemblages as well as locations(Brecht-Overbroek I and II and Helmond Stiphoutsbroek) where (part of ) theassemblage is surface-related. The group of river valley sites also demonstrates aconsiderable contribution of blades. Within the group of wetland sites there isa distinct difference between both Hardinxveld sites where the contribution ofblades, in particular at Polderweg, is limited and Swifterbant-S22 and S23 wherethe composition is more balanced.When the scores of the individual sites are combined into group scores,regional differences become even more apparent (see fig. 5.17). Evidence for therelative importance of blade production on the southern coversand is evident.The contribution of blades at the river valley sites might, if the Ardennes sites areexemplary for the Meuse valley, perhaps reflect a system in close contact with sitessimilar to those on the southern coversand. For the wetland group it is clear thatboth Hardinxveld sites are characterised by a flake-based industry, which clearlycontrasts with sites in the other groups, while blades play a more important roleat Swifterbant-S22 and S23.

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Fig. 5.15 Combined

percentages for technologicalcategories per group. Total sitecounts in brackets.

southern coversand (16)

Hardinxveld-PW phase 0/1

Fig. 5.17 Combined

northern coversand (3)

wetland/margin (4)

Hardinxveld-P

river valley (3)

bladesakes

wetland/margin (4)

Hardinxveld-PW phase 0/1

river valley (3)

The available information on core type confirms the importance of blade

production on the southern coversand (see fig. 5.18). This contrasts mostdistinctly with the wetland Hardinxveld sites.35 The wetland margin locations ofSwifterbant also stand out and quite oppositely indicate that blade cores were alsoof importance there, although this is somewhat qualified when compared to thecontribution of flakes and blades (see fig. 5.16).

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100%

80%

60%

40%blade cores20%

ake cores

southerncoversand

northerncoversand

Hdx-PW 0/1 (226)

Hdx-DB 1 (10)

Swi erbant-S22 (24)

Swi erbant-S23 (111)

Marinberg-S (340)

Merselo-H (30)

Havelte-DD-H1-II (25)

0%

Fig. 5.18 Relative composition

of flake and blade cores forinformative sites. Number ofcores in brackets.

wetland (margin)

N sites

area excavatedm2

N cores/rejuvenationflakes

mean contribution cores to

assemblage

southern coversand

16

7278

932/1007

2.37

northern coversand

5440

643/443

5.95

wetland/(margin)

3139

371/127

6.60

river valley

478

401/329

3.56

5.5.3.2 Cores and core rejuvenation flakes

In relation to the flake and blade emphases in the assemblages described above itis informative to put the occurrence of cores into perspective as well. These arepresented in fig. 5.19. What is most apparent is the relatively low number of coresfor a number of sites on the southern coversand. Only in two cases do they exceed100 in number.This particular perspective regarding sites on the southern coversand becomeseven more apparent when the mean number of cores per group is combined withthe overall area excavated.It appears that especially for the southern coversand area in view of the areaexcavated the overall number of cores is low for the group and the individualsites. This may be emphasized by the fact that excavation at sites on the southerncoversand was often aimed at artefact clusters, hypothetically increasing theexpected number of cores. This is confirmed by their lower contribution to theassemblage. The river valley group is most comparable to this situation.Combining the information from cores and core rejuvenation flakes it appearsthat the latter only match and exceed the contribution of cores for a group of siteson the southern coversand (see fig. 5.20). This supports the general characteristicdescribed above regarding the more limited importance of cores at sites on thesouthern coversand.

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Table 5.12 Mean number of

cores per group in relationto excavated area. (Based onassemblage counts excludingchips and debris and includingtools.)

700600500400300200100core rejuvena on

northerncoversand

Lige-DDD (33)

Lige-PS-SDT (662)

Remouchamps-SD (35)

Hdx-DB phase 1 (13)

Swi erbant-S22 (32)

Swi erbantB-S23 (199)

Hdx-PW phase 0/1 (254)

Havelte-DD-H1-II (49)

Marinberg-S (646)

southern coversand

Nieuw Schoonebeek-S (391)

Brecht M-1 (26)

Meeuwen-ID1-1b (11)

Brecht-O3 (22)

Opglabbeek-R (17)

Merselo-H (31)

Meeuwen-ID1-1a (72)

Brecht-O1 (56)

Brecht-O2 (41)

Brecht-TH (103)

Dilsen-DIII (119)

Turnhout-ZH (134)

Weelde-P4 (139)

Weelde-P5 (169)

Weelde-P1 (247)

Helmond-SB (172)

Brecht M-2 (580)

cores

wetland/(margin) river valley

Fig. 5.19 Counts for cores and core rejuvenation flakes per site and group. See also Appendix IIA.

100%80%60%40%20%

southern coversand

northerncoversand

Lige-DDD (33)

Lige-PS-SDT (662)

Remouchamps-SD (35)

Swi erbantB-S23 (199)

Swi erbant-S22 (32)

Hdx-DB phase 1 (13)

Hdx-PW phase 0/1 (254)

Havelte-DD-H1-II (49)

Nieuw Schoonebeek-S (391)

Marinberg-S (646)

Brecht M-1 (26)

Brecht M-2 (580)

Meeuwen-ID1-1a (72)

Weelde-P1 (247)

Dilsen-DIII (119)

Weelde-P5 (169)

Helmond-SB (172)

Weelde-P4 (139)

Meeuwen-ID1-1b (11)

Brecht-O1 (56)

Brecht-O2 (41)

Brecht-TH (103)

Turnhout-ZH (134)

Brecht-O3 (22)

Opglabbeek-R (17)

Merselo-H (31)

0%core rejuvena oncores

wetland/(margin) river valley

Fig. 5.20 Percentages of cores and core rejuvenation flakes per site. Number of artefacts in brackets.

5.5.3.3 Technological characteristics and potential implications

The characteristics recorded for debitage technique and cores described aboveform indicators for specific types of technological behaviour, connected to aspectsof mobility and the settlement system. As argued above emphases in flake- orblade-based industries may reflect the type of mobility system in use in relationto the tasks employed, although certain intrinsic limitations should be taken intoaccount (cf. supra). With respect to the sites studied here, those on the southerncoversand are characterised by a more important contribution of blades overall.

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

191

In particular the Hardinxveld sites contrast with this with a mainly flake-basedindustry. Blades are hardly of importance there and the bipolar core technologywas mainly geared towards producing workable edges on flakes (see Van Gijn etal. 2001a, 133, 159; see also Andrefsky 2005, 241). This would argue for a higherdegree of mobility for sites in the first group in comparison to distinct wetlandlocations as Hardinxveld with a lower residential mobility.Blades are often used for the production of a variety of formal tools suchas trapezes and Montbani blades. It is important to note that the contributionperspective here is based on five sites where blades are more important thanflakes and four additional sites that demonstrated small differences. Further,intermediate evidence is provided by the importance of blade cores for sites in thesouthern coversand landscape and the contribution of microburins to the overallassemblage (see fig. 5.15). Flakes are evidently more important at most other sites,but unfortunately site numbers apart from those in the southern coversand groupare too low to argue for more distinct regional characteristics. Microburins aretypical waste products of the blade-based fabrication of trapezes. As argued above,the river valley sites are somewhat comparable in composition to the sites on thesouthern coversand.When the contribution of cores and core rejuvenation flakes is included,the lower contribution of cores at sites on the southern coversand appears tobe significant. This would potentially be in line with a higher mobility if it isargued that cores are part of the mobile toolkit (cf. supra) and were thereforeregularly transported away from site to site and discarded upon exhaustion onthe way to or at another site. The ratio between cores and rejuvenation flakespotentially supports this. The larger contribution of the latter to sites in thesouthern coversand landscape may indicate a higher level of core exhaustion andtransport of cores at these locations. Especially the wetland site of Polderwegyields opposite, contrasting evidence. Cores were regularly discarded there whilerejuvenation seems to have been less important, which also supports an expedientcharacter.Alternatively it should be realized that the number of cores and the ratiobetween cores and rejuvenation flakes may be influenced by a number of otherprimary factors, such as the size and quality of the raw material (mostly rollednodules, terrace flint or flint from moraine deposits) and the influence of testingupon procurement, specific tasks and tradition. As such it may only form anindication of secondary importance.From a technological perspective there are thus several identifiable differences.The main contrast exists between the group of sites on the southern coversand andwetland sites, especially the site of Polderweg. The former group is characterisedby relatively low numbers of cores, a considerable contribution of blades tothe assemblage and evidence for a curated technology, while Polderweg can becharacterised as the opposite end of the spectrum with a high contribution ofcores (c. 7% of the assemblage), a dominance of flakes and an overall expedienttechnology. The other sites are more difficult to characterise and can be placed ona continuum between these two, indicating a certain degree of variability, mainlyof sites on the northern coversand and in the wetland group. The distinctionin technology can be regarded as indicative for different patterns of mobility,suggesting an overall higher level of residential mobility at sites on the southern

192

persistent traditions

coversand. This contrasts most distinctly with the results obtained for Polderwegand a comparison should be understood against the specialist wetland backgroundof the latter site.36

5.5.4 Typological characteristics

The typological characteristics of the artefact spectrum provide insight into therange of activities performed at a site and the emphases therein within and betweenregions. This is also informative as to aspects of mobility and the settlement system.In this respect, tool morphology is not directly informative on tool function orperformed activity as argued above (scrapers, retouched blades and flakes and evenpoints have been used for a variety of tasks and use-wear analysis has only beenperformed for a limited number of site assemblages. This limits the identificationof activities and the functional characterization of a site. On a more general leveldifferences and similarities observed between the typological composition ofassemblages of (groups of ) sites may point to different typological choices andpreferences. Such shifts in accent detected within the typological spectrum mayindicate different emphases in activities performed, and offer a perspective on the(regional) nature of the settlement system in general.An overview of the typological characteristics of the different groups of sitesis presented in fig. 5.21 (A-D), see also Appendix IIB. Sites with an overall smallsample size (less than 25 tools), overall low numbers of artefacts (less than 400artefacts), or difficulties in attribution have been excluded from further analysisto avoid biases caused by site-specific research intensity.37The typological characteristics and their composition per site for the mostimportant artefact categories have been presented in fig. 5.22.The composition of the most important artefact categories gives a firstimpression of the characteristics of the different sites individually and per region.For the southern coversand landscape the overall importance of points (c. 40%)is striking. For the northern coversand and river valley sites points are also ofimportance, yet some display a less significant contribution in favour of other tools.Only in the wetland (margin) group do points play a significantly smaller role.Another feature is the importance of retouched blades, both in the assemblages ofthe southern coversand group and those of the river valley sites, as well as at thewetland margin sites Swifterbant-S22 and S23.Combining the evidence from the different sites per defined region or groupenables the elucidation of group percentages. It should be taken into accountthough that the combined evidence only has a broad base for the southerncoversand group. These results are presented in fig. 5.23.The group compositions reflect some of the characteristics mentioned above.Apparent is the importance of points in the southern coversand group and to asomewhat lesser extent the northern coversand group and river valley group. Thecomposition of both of these latter groups, however, is characterised by morediversity regarding other types of tools, while the overall composition of the rivervalley group somewhat resembles that of the southern coversand sites. The wetland(margin) groups deviates most from this with an emphasis on non-formal toolsand a smaller role for points. In the following, several typological elements will bediscussed in more detail.

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

193

point

backedblade

borer

scraper

burin

ret.blade

ret.flake

Mbn.blade

notch/dent.

hammerstone

Brecht-Moordenaarsven 2

29.9

29424285172m2

2.7

6.8

21.4

10.9

15.3

8.239116568m 2

5.4

Brecht-Moordenaarsven 1

51.3

5.1

5.1

Brecht-Moordenaarsven 3

44.4

28.2

7.7

5.51818

5.5

11.1

5.5

5.5

11.4

8.6

27

22.2

1.4

30

12.9

156110252298m

15

10

41.7

3.3

11.7

Brecht-Opbroek 3

20.5

17.9

2.6

35.9

15.4

5.1

2.63092982100m2

27.6

5.8

26.9

11.4

26

2.32855508146m2

Dilsen-Dilserheide III

3.5

5.2

0.4

1.8

10.9

10.5

18.1

24.5

27.7

10.2

7.7

1.9

9.7

2.6

Meeuwen-in den Damp 1-1a

16.5

2.2

23.1

45.1

4.4

5.5

11.8

58.5

15.7

10

12.9

31

9.4

0.9

18.8

5.1

10.3

22.2

14.7

1.3

4.7

30.7

8.7

6.7

1.3

Weelde-Paardsdrank 1

22.7

Weelde-Paardsdrank 4

19.9

1.7

7.1

0.8

0.3

0.2

9.9

9.5

6.7

12

7.5

8.6

9.7

13.8

8.2

8.5

10.6

12.4

Weelde-Paardsdrank 5

20.9

4.5

0.2

0.9

persistent traditions

1560453015

703175409m2

60453015

11721022134m

60453015

1.71502176

1.374811877129m223.86299115290m

604530156045301560453015

29.9426609298452100m30

Fig. 5.21 Typological percentages per site arranged according to the groups defined, respectively southerncoversand landscape (A), northern coversand landscape (B), wetland/wetland margin (C) and river valley/valley floor (D). Outlined on the right are number of tools, total number of artefacts and area excavated.

southern coversand (15)

northern coversand (4)

river valley (3)

/margin (4)

river valley (3)

5.5.4.1 Points and backed blades

Points most likely represent curation (retooling) and discard of arrows andarrowheads. Therefore sites with many points are often interpreted as (temporary)hunting camps. While this terminology is too restrictive for the range of activitiesperformed, the presence of many points stresses the importance of hunting (seeBinford 1987b; 1980, 8-12; Boaz 1998, 308).

196

persistent traditions

river valley (3)

Fig. 5.23 Typological

percentage composition pergroup for the major categoriesof tool types.

Fig. 5.24 Percentages for point

types per site. Total counts forpoints in brackets.

A first observation concerns the importance of points at sites in the southern

and the northern coversand landscape and at the river valley sites, as mentionedabove (see fig. 5.22 and 5.23; see also Appendix IIB). This differs from therelative paucity in points at sites in the wetlands and wetland margin group. Thecounts for the northern coversand landscape are somewhat influenced by the highnumber of points and backed blades at Nieuw Schoonebeek. Since backed bladesare probably parts of composite tools, this may skew the perspective. In any casethe divergent contribution at the wetland sites and in particular at HardinxveldPolderweg is significant. In line with its distinct wetland location this may, forexample, point to a greater importance of fishing as opposed to terrestrial hunting(see also the contribution of points at Lige in fig. 5.21).Further information may be obtained from point type diversity, which ispresented in fig. 5.24 (see also Appendix IIC). Of the sites with quantitativetypological information mentioned above, those with point counts below twentyhave been excluded. It should be noted once more that certain point types remainedin use for a long time, but all may in fact be part of Late Mesolithic assemblages(cf. supra; Arts 1989, fig 8; Cromb 1998).Trapezes and trapeze production are most common at sites on the southerncoversand. The contrasts between the groups may be explained from a regionalperspective, identifying the dominance of trapeze production as a characteristicsouthern feature. Alternatively, but less likely, it may be related to specificfunctional properties making them especially useful for hunting in the (southern)coversand landscape (see also Fischer 1989). LBK-like points are clearly a southernfeature as are points with surface retouch such as feuilles de gui (see Verhart/Arts2005, 249). Triangles, points with retouched bases and D-points signal continuity,especially in the north (ibid.). The importance of points with unretouched base(B-points) at Hardinxveld-Polderweg is remarkable. Since the site is firmly datedto the later part of the Late Mesolithic and is situated in a central to southern

100%90%80%70%60%50%40%

backed blades

30%

other points

20%

B-points

10%

C/D-points

southern coversand

northern coversand wetland/(margin)

Lige-PS-SDT (39)

Remouchamps-SD (54)

Swi erbantB-S23 (66)

Hardinxveld-PW phase 0/1 (92)

Swi erbant-S11-13 (40)

Havelte-DD-H1-I (31)

Marinberg-S (27)

Tietjerk-LG1 (55)

Nieuw Schoonebeek (113)

Turnhout-ZH (67)

Helmond-SB+ surface (29)

Weelde-P1 (226)

Brecht-O1 (21)

Merselo-H (39)

Weelde-P5 (108)

Opglabbeek-R (36)

Dilsen-DIII (87)

Weelde-P4 (136)

Brecht M-2 (86)

Brecht-TH (85)

Brecht M-1 (22)

0%

trianglesurface R pointsLBK-like pointstrapezes

rivervalley

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

197

margin (3)

(3)

N points andbacked blades

N tools

percentage

southern coversand (15)

963

3482

27.7

northern coversand (4)

182

526

34.6

wetland/(margin) (4)

199

1303

15.3

Hardinxveld-PW-phase 0/1 (1)

92

635

14.5

river valley/valley floor (3)

112

480

23.3

site/group

Table 5.13 Percentages for

tools and backed blades forthe different groups andHardinxveld-Polderweg.Number of sites in brackets.

southern coversand (12)

northern coversand (4)

trapezes

surface R pointssurfaceC/D-pointsB-points

points

R points

triangleC/D-points

other pointsB-pointsbacked blades

other points

river valley (2)

backed blades

locationwithinthe(2)LRA, one would have expected a predominance of trapezes.rivervalleyInstead the B-points indicate a distinctly different accent which may point todifferent functional requirements. This might either be a functional adjustmentto specific wetland conditions or be related to the quality of the material and theexpedient technology characteristics for the Polderweg assemblage. Without bothHardinxveld sites, values for this point type at wetland sites would concur withthe other groups. Finally, backed blades seem of more importance in the northand at river dune sites, especially at Swifterbant.If the counts are combined per group (see fig. 5.25), the compositions oncemore accentuate the dominance of trapezes at sites on the southern coversand, thegreater diversity elsewhere and the importance of B-points and backed blades forthe group of wetland sites.

5.5.4.2 Other tools

Of the other artefacts (see figs. 5.21 and 5.22), scrapers show some variabilityin their contribution. Since these artefacts are easily recognized, it is likely thatdifferences point to different emphases in the activity spectrum and are not researchbiased. These tools are used for a wide variety of tasks (Andrefksy 2005; Odell

198

persistent traditions

river valley (2)

trapezes

LBK-likeLBK-like pointstriangle

wetland/margin (3)

Fig. 5.25 Group percentage

composition for point types.Number of sites in brackets.

1981), hence a broader spectrum of activities at sites in the northern coversand

and river valley group (in particular at Lige) may be proposed, although the smallnumber of sites involved limit such a conclusion. The low numbers recorded forPolderweg may be attributed to the effects of a largely expedient technology whereretouched flakes may have replaced scrapers for certain activities (see Van Gijn etal. 2001a, table 6.14).Borers and burins form a minor contribution to most sites. They may beindicative of a broader emphasis in task spectrum at sites in the wetlands andwetland margin or on the northern coversand when compared to sites in thesouthern coversand landscape. Especially the contribution of burins at Marinbergis striking. Although difficult to compare, Bergumermeer-S64B yielded similarhigh counts. The low numbers for Polderweg might again relate to the effects ofan expedient technology.Montbani blades (see Robinson 2010, 141) are mainly found on the southerncoversand and have been compared and combined with the group of knives, mainlyfound on the northern coversand and on the northern river dunes in the wetlandgroup.38 The Montbani blade is characteristic for the southern coversand landscapeand in combination with points forms an important, formal contribution to theartefact spectrum. Notched and denticulated artefacts appear of more importanceat river valley sites, especially at Lige.At some sites the other tools category is relatively large (see fig. 5.18). Themajority of these at for instance Weelde, Lige or Remouchamps is formed byindeterminable microliths and artefacts that may either be waste or tools, such as,for instance, truncated blades (see Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, 167; Van Gijn 1989,table 22 and 23). Other lithic artefacts were incorporated as well.39

5.5.4.3 Retouched flakes and blades

Another typological component of the lithic assemblages of the sites studied isformed by retouched flakes and blades. They are presented in fig. 5.26.40 Siteswith counts below 10 have been excluded.The distribution between retouched flakes and blades per site in generalresembles the distribution between flakes and blades as demonstrated in fig.5.16. This indicates that a representative part of the respective flake- and bladebased debitage techniques distinguished for the individual sites and groupsresults in non-formal tools. Especially the increased contribution of retouchedblades (in comparison to unmodified blades) indicates that a considerable partof the unmodified blades may perhaps be interpreted as blanks. This supportsthe distinction made earlier between more curated industries, as distinguishedmost convincingly for the southern coversand area and river valley sites, versus amore balanced spectrum for sites in the other groups. The importance of curatedelements within the technological and typological aspects of sites in the southerncoversand landscape is further substantiated by the contribution of Montbaniblades.Noteworthy is the importance of retouched blades at river valley sites, whichis consistent at all three locations. The similarities in composition compared tosites on the southern coversand potentially supports the idea of correlating thesetypes of sites (typologically and technologically) in a complementary settlementsystem (cf. supra).

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

199

margin (4)

100%80%60%40%20%

ret. akeret. blade

southern coversand

Lige-PS-SDT (75)

Lige-DDD (16)

Remouchamps-SD (30)

Swi erbant-S11-13 (59)

Hdx-PW phase 0/1 (308)

Swi erbant-S22 (38)

Swi erbant-S23 (296)

Marinberg-S (34)

Havelte-DD-H1-II (21)

Havelte-DD-H1-I (21)

Nieuw Schoonebeek-S (19)

Brecht-O3 (15)

Brecht-O1 (25)

Brecht-O2 (31)

Meeuwen-ID1-1a (62)

Merselo-H (16)

Weelde-P5 (81)

Weelde-P4 (115)

Turnhout-ZH (15)

Helmond-SB (81)

Dilsen-DIII (61)

Weelde-P1 (145)

Brecht M-2 (95)

Brecht-TH (118)

Opglabbeek-R (28)

0%

northern coversand wetland/(margin) river valley

Fig. 5.26 Percentages for

retouched flakes and blades persite. Total counts in brackets.

southern coversand (14)

northern coversand (4)

wetland/margin (4)

ret. bladeret. ake

Hardinxveld-PW phase 0/1

ret. bladeret. ake

Hardinxveld-PW phase 0/1

river valley (3)

The contribution of retouched flakes is largest for the wetland site of

dinxveld-PWphase 0/1river(3) only yielded six retouchedHardinxveld-Polderweg.The nearbysitevalleyof De Bruinflakes and two retouched blades, yet despite its low numbers seems to confirmthis composition.

200

persistent traditions

Fig. 5.27 Group percentages

for retouched flakes and blades.Number of sites in brackets.

river valley

When the results from the individual sites are combined per group (fig. 5.27),the general distribution mirrors that of flakes versus blades (see fig. 5.17). Themost distinct feature remains the contrasting importance of retouched bladesfor the southern coversand group in comparison to wetland sites, in particularHardinxveld-Polderweg. The distinctive position of Swifterbant-S22 should benoted in this, however.

5.5.4.4 Percentage distribution and box plot analysis

Based on a number of the analyses presented above, the percentage counts maybe grouped (see fig. 5.28). Hardinxveld-Giessendam-Polderweg has been plottedboth as an individual site as well as within the group of wetlands or wetlandmargin sites. Exclusion of Polderweg from this group did not seriously alter thecomposition. Due to the low number of sites in three of the four groups, thestatistical significance of the distributions with respect to each other was tested aswell (see Appendix IID).The compositions point out some of the characteristics mentioned above.This involves the similarities between the southern coversand and river valleygroup (regarding points, Montbani blades and retouched blades). The typologicalinvestment within the southern coversand group in points indicates productionand therewith terrestrial hunting. This differs from somewhat more diversespectrum of sites on the northern coversand and the more limited importanceof points and dominance of retouched flakes at the wetland (margin) sites,Hardinxveld-Polderweg in particular.In order to understand these different emphases in the typological compositionof the assemblages from a functional perspective, a set of boxplot analyses based onthe percentage distribution is introduced (fig. 5.29). The boxplot graphs presentboth the individual tool types as well as functional categories. Points and backedblades have been grouped within a hypothetical hunting toolkit.41 Similarly, toolsrelated to processing and production tasks, including borers, burins, scrapers andnotched or denticulated artefacts have been grouped under processing toolkit.Retouched flakes and blades make up a general third group, while the formalMontbani blades and knives form the last group.Points are relatively important at sites on the southern coversand. More thanhalf of the sites yielded values of c. 25% or more. Backed blades are less common.On the northern coversand these are often of high importance, although thedistribution is strongly influenced by the sites of Havelte (25%) and NieuwSchoonebeek (17%). Points are also of relative importance at sites in the rivervalley group. In the combined graph for the hunting toolkit the distribution ofpoints and backed blades and their median for the group of southern and northerncoversand sites stand out, especially with respect to the wetland group.42If points form the strongest indication for hunting activities then a huntingtoolkit seems to have been of distinct importance for sites in the southerncoversand landscape, especially when combined with the group percentages (fig.5.28) and offset against the quantitatively broad dataset. The importance ofbacked blades should be noted as a potentially important feature of sites in thenorthern coversand landscape, in relation to hunting activities.

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

201

50 %

scraper

ret. blade

Montbani blade/knife

notch./dent. blade

ret. blade

Montbani blade/knife

notch./dent. blade

Hardinxveld-Polderwegphase 0/1 (1)

burin

10

notch./dent. blade

10

Montbani blade/knife

20

ret. blade

20

scraper

30

burin

30

borer

40

backed blade

scraper

50 %

40

point

burin

notch./dent. blade

wetland/(margin) (4)

borer

50 %

borer

backed blade

northern coversand (4)

point

10

Montbani blade/knife

10

ret. blade

20

scraper

20

burin

30

borer

30

backed blade

40

point

40

backed blade

southern coversand (15)

point

50 %

50 %403020

notch./dent. blade

Montbani blade/knife

ret. blade

scraper

burin

borer

backed blade

point

10

Fig. 5.28 Percentages of the

typological assemblage compositionper group and for HardinxveldPolderweg separately. Number ofsites in brackets.

Borers yield relatively low values for sites in the southern coversand landscapeand seem of less importance at the valley floor sites. This contrasts with the uppervalues, but not necessarily the distribution in both other groups. Burins yield lowvalues in general, although this appears most consistent for sites on the southerncoversand. The high contribution of burins at Marinberg (11%) may point tospecific task focuses at this site, or it is an artefact of identification. The distributionof scrapers is less outspoken. It can only be noted that the upper extremes within thenorthern and river valley group exceed the contribution of scrapers to assemblages

202

persistent traditions

in the southern coversand landscape. Notched and denticulated artefacts provide

a relatively low contribution in all groups when outliers are excluded. Whengrouped within a processing toolkit the most characteristic feature is formed bythe extremes in the group of sites on the northern coversand and those in rivervalley situations. On the basis of the studied sites, (formal) processing artefactsform a relatively smaller contribution to assemblages in the southern coversandlandscape and in the wetlands.The distribution of retouched flakes and blades mirrors the percentage countsabove. In the group of wetland (margin) sites, the importance of retouched flakesis distinct, while retouched blades are significantly influenced by both Swifterbantoutliers. Assuming retouched flakes and blades fulfilled similar functions, theoverall counts in the general toolkit indicate that all groups are comparable intheir contribution of these tools to the assemblage, except for the group of wetland(/margin) sites. There the contribution of retouched blades and flakes stands outmarkedly.Finally, the distribution of Montbani blades (mainly documented for thesouthern coversand landscape and river valley sites) and knives (mainly documentedfor the northern coversand landscape and at the wetland (margin) sites) point toa low contribution for these elements at the wetland or wetland margin sites.This may relate to the compensating function of retouched flakes and blades.On the southern coversand Montbani blades clearly form a relatively importantcontribution to the toolkit, suggesting that they may be interpreted as specifically(reliable) and multi-functional tools related to hunting activities.43Interpreting differencesThe boxplot distributions do not allow the identification of assemblage types,but point out differences in emphases. In the southern coversand landscape theassemblages, dominated by points and Montbani blades, fit hunting activities,including the primary butchering of carcasses and the processing of meat. Whilethese activities are also of importance in the other groups their overall typologicalbasis is somewhat broader and perhaps indicative of a more diverse set of activities.The wetland (margin) sites demonstrate a relatively smaller contribution ofhunting tools and a greater importance of general tools such as retouched flakes.It should further be remarked that the various artefact distributions for sites inthe southern coversand landscape, with the exception of Montbani blades, show arelatively limited spread, indicating the existence of homogeneity and consistencywithin these assemblages. The higher number of sites for the southern coversandlandscape further confirms this distribution.

5.5.4.5 Visual cluster analysis

A complementary approach to the analysis above is offered by cluster analysis.This statistical analysis has proven useful for detecting (latent) patterns withinarchaeological data. However, both the array of methods available and the natureof the data often complicate an objective application and detection of inherentstructure (see Shennan 1997, 253-254). An alternative approach is provided byarranging data into star plots (Chambers et al., 1983). This is a visual methodfor displaying multivariate observations. The length of the individual rayscorresponds with the size of the variable. The overall configuration of properties

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

203

204

persistent traditions

N-SH-DD-H1-I

H-DD-H1-II

M-S

N-S

LPS-SDT

LPS-DDD

LPS-SDT

RSD

SWB-S11-13

SWB-S23SWB-S22

Hdx-PW

RSDLPS-DDD

LPS-SDT

ret. flakes

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

Hdx-PWSWB-S23SWB-S22

SWB-S11-13

burins

50

30

RSD

30

N-SH-DD-H1-I

hunting toolkit

60

10

15

20

25

30

35

10

20

30

40

50

10

15

20

25

30

40

SWB-S23

SWB-S11-13

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

H-DD-H1-IM-S

H-DD-H1-II

southern(15) northern(4)

southern(15) northern(4)

SWB-S22

Hdx-PW

LPS-DDD

RSD

points

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

H-DD-H1-II

H-DD-H1-IM-S

N-S

southern(15) northern(4)

40

50

60

10

20

30

40

50

10

12

10

20

30

40

50

60

M-S

N-SH-DD-H1-II

H-DD-H1-I

H-DD-H1-IM-S

H-DD-H1-II

N-S

N-S

BM-S

Hdx-PWSWB-S22

SWB-S23

SWB-S11-13

LPS-SDT

LPS-DDD

RSD

backed blades

RSD

LPS-SDT

RSDLPS-DDDLPS-SDT

SWB-S11-13

LPS-SDTLPS-DDD

processing toolkit

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

SWB-S11-13Hdx-PW

SWB-S23

SWB-S22

ret. blades

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

Hdx-PW

SWB-S23SWB-S22

SWB-S11-13

LPS-DDD

scrapers

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

N-S

H-DD-H1-IM-S

H-DD-H1-II

southern(15) northern(4)

southern(15) northern(4)

southern(15) northern(4)

40

60

80

10

15

20

25

30

10

20

30

40

10

H-DD-H1-I

H-DD-H1-IH-DD-H1-IIN-S

M-S

M-SN-S

H-DD-H1-I

H-DD-H1-II

southern(15) northern(4)

southern(15) northern(4)

RSD

LPS-SDTLPS-DDD

RSD

LPS-DDD

SWB-S23Hdx-PW SWB-S22

SWB-S11-13LPS-SDTLPS-DDD

RSD

Montbani blades/knives

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

SWB-S11-13

Hdx-PW SWB-S22SWB-S23

LPS-SDT

notch/dent.

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

Hdx-PW

SWB-S22

SWB-S23

SWB-S11-13

borers

Hdx-PW

SWB-S22SWB-S23

processing toolkit

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

N-SH-DD-H1-II

M-S

southern(15) northern(4)

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

205

southern(15) northern(4)

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

SWB-S22

Hdx-PWSWB-S23

LPS-SDT

LPS-DDD

10

20H-DD-H1-I

SWB-S11-13Hdx-PW

RSDLPS-DDDLPS-SDT

RSD

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

Hdx-PW

SWB-S23SWB-S22

SWB-S11-13

LPS-SDTLPS-DDD

processing toolkit

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

N-S

H-DD-H1-II

M-S

southern(15) northern(4)

southern(15) northern(4)

N-S

H-DD-H1-IM-S

H-DD-H1-II

SWB-S23

20

40

60

80

10

15

N-S

M-S

H-DD-H1-I

H-DD-H1-II

southern(15) northern(4)

southern(15) northern(4)

M-SN-S

H-DD-H1-I

H-DD-H1-II

LPS-SDTLPS-DDD

RSD

LPS-SDTRSDLPS-DDD

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

SWB-S11-13

Hdx-PW

SWB-S22SWB-S23

processing toolkit

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

SWB-S23Hdx-PW SWB-S22

SWB-S11-13

Fig. 5.29 Boxplot graphs for tools and combined functional categories. For the small groups individual sites have been plotted within the distribution graphs in order to pinpointthe nature of the specific distribution (see table 5.1 for abbreviations). (A) Boxplot graphs for percentages of points, backed blades and combined hunting toolkit. (B) Boxplotgraphs for percentages of borers, burins, scrapers and notched and denticulated artefacts as well as for the combined processing toolkit. (C) Boxplot graphs for percentagesof retouched flakes, retouched blades, and combined general toolkit. (D) Boxplot graphs for percentages of Montbani blades and knives.

10

20

H-DD-H1-IIM-S

SWB-S11-13

30

RSD

50

60

30

N-SH-DD-H1-I

hunting toolkit

wetland/(margin) (4) river valley(3)

RSDLPS-DDD

LPS-SDT

10

15

20

40

southern(15) northern(4)

N-S

H-DD-H1-IM-S

H-DD-H1-II

SWB-S11-13

40

50

60

10

20

30

per observation (site or group) and their ordering allow for the detection ofsimilarities or differences. This approach offers a visual alternative for what hasbeen discussed earlier.The data have been plotted per group for the entire tool assemblage (see fig.5.30) and for the assemblage excluding retouched flakes, blades, hammerstonesand other tools.In general the composition of the star plots accentuates the importance ofpoints and Montbani blades at sites in the southern coversand landscape and, toa lesser extent, backed blades and points in the northern coversand landscape.The different shape of the star plots for the wetland group relates to the role ofretouched flakes and blades, once more indicating their important contributionto these assemblages. Within the river valley group points clearly dominate and asomewhat more balanced image appears, along the lines of the southern coversandgroup. The star plots that exclude the general category of retouched flakes andblades clearly demonstrate the distinct focus on point manufacture, curation andtherewith hunting for sites on the southern coversand.In the analysis the individual sites were plotted as well and, in particular for thesouthern coversand, wetland (margin) and river valley sites, yield largely similarperspectives, comparable to the group composition. The relevance of assemblagediversity is based on the premise that there might be sites with a more generalfunction and those with a more specialist function (Andrefsky 2005, 214). Whilethe time-averaged nature of most of the sites prevents an appropriate analysis ofsite types, different but consistent emphases in assemblage composition may beinformative on the absence or presence of activities.44 One statistical approach,used by Chatters (1987, 363-366), to assess the degree of diversity and therewithspecialization within studied assemblages is the evenness index (see also Andrefsky2005; Rhode 1988). The results of this test for the different sites and groupsstatistically confirmed the lower values and hence greater homogeneity for sitesin the group on the southern coversand and to a lesser extent the southern rivervalley sites, especially when retouched flakes and blades are removed from thecounts (see Appendix IIE).

5.5.4.6 Typological characteristics and potential implications

From a typological perspective the site assemblages for the southern coversandstress the importance of hunting as a primary activity, which is substantiated bythe number of sites that yielded information. The similarities between the rivervalley sites and those of the southern coversand hint at the presence of similarcommunities from a material perspective: formal tools such as points and Montbaniblades characterise the assemblages, while retouched blades form an importantcontribution as well.45 The emphasis in the assemblage spectra of the differentsites in this area is relatively uniform and points to the importance of hunting (seealso Cromb et al. 2011b, 468).The assemblages of sites on the northern coversandare largely comparable, but have a less outspoken character. The contribution ofscrapers, burins, backed blades and borers point to a more varied toolkit, althoughthese types are not absent elsewhere. The contribution of retouched blades is lessdistinct when compared to the south. The wetland and wetland margin sites yielda different picture. Points are less important there. Retouched flakes dominate thespectrum at Polderweg, while S22 and S23 show a more important contribution

206

persistent traditions

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

207

other

10

20

30

burin

10

20

point

30

borer

scraper

Mbn. blade/knife

notch./dent.

burin

borer

scraper

Mbn. blade/knife

southern coversand

302520151050

southern coversand (15)

northern coversand

302520151050

wetland/(margin)

302520151050

wetland/(margin) (4)

river valley/valley floor

302520151050

river valley/valley floor (3)

northern coversand (4)

10

10

20

20

30

40

10

30

40

10

20

30

40

20

30

40

Fig. 5.30 Visual cluster analysis (star plots) of tool assemblage percentages per group (A) and for a selection ofartefacts, excluding retouched flakes and blades, hammerstones and other tools (B). Number of sites in brackets.

notch./dent.

backed blade

point%

40

backed blade

ret. flake

ret. blade

hammerstone

of retouched blades, in line with their technological component. At these wetland

(margin) sites the tool spectrum differs most from that of sites on the southerncoversand, mainly in terms of a more limited contribution of points and animportant role for retouched flakes.Based on the assemblage compositions the main distinction between a groupof southern coversand sites characterised by curated elements, both in technologyand typology, and sites with a more expedient character such as those in thewetland group and in particular Hardinxveld-Polderweg remains. The assemblagesof many of the other sites should be understood as representing differences ofdegree rather than kind.

5.5.5 Wommersom quartzite

The technological and typological analysis above did not incorporate the roleof raw material. The raw material composition and its information regardingresource procurement, mobility and the settlement system will be discussed below(see section 5.5.6). There is however one aspect that offers a complementaryperspective on the typological and technological information presented earlier.This involves the role of Wommersom quartzite in assemblages on the southerncoversand.

5.5.5.1 Wommersom quartzite contribution

Of both quantitative and qualitative significance is the contribution of Wommersomquartzite (Grs Quartzite de Wommersom, or GQW), to the assemblages on thesouthern coversand. The grey to dark grey mottled quartz is not too fine-grainedand is ideally suited for the production of blades and microliths (Gendel 1984,144). Since the only outcrop is located near Tienen in the Hageland (Gendel1982), this type of raw material is predominantly found at sites in the southerncoversand group.46 Other southern locations include the river dune site of Melselewhich yielded c. 5% of GQW (Van Berg et al. 1992), while sector DDD at thevalley floor site of Lige yielded c. 8% (Van der Sloot in prep.). Further northGQW is only encountered sporadically.47 Noteworthy is the relative importanceof GQW for sites on the southern coversand. On average between 5% and 20%of the assemblages there was made of Wommersom quartzite. The specifics of thisdistribution have been plotted below (see fig. 5.31, see also Appendix IIG andIIH).The contribution of GQW to the assemblages of these sites is significant.There are outliers, such as Brecht-Moordenaarsven 1, where a knapping placemay have been excavated (see Appendix I) and for the sites documented byVermeersch (1976) it should be taken into account that these are mostly surfacesamples, yet the importance of GQW is distinct.48 Within the group of sites onthe southern coversand (and occasionally outside this group), the procurementand use of Wommersom quartzite should therefore be interpreted as a meaningfulcharacteristic. One explanation for its importance may be found in its qualities asa very workable, forgiving raw material, excellently suited for the production ofblades and microliths (see Gendel 1984). Below, a number of aspects are studiedin more detail, based on those sites that yielded informative raw material counts.

GQW tools (10)

5.5.5.2 Technological preference and Wommersom quartzite

Several technological categories of artefacts are informative on the importance ofWommersom quartzite. In fig. 5.32 the contribution of Wommersom and flint iscompared for cores and core rejuvenations flakes.As argued earlier the importance of core rejuvenation flakes in relation tocores may point to the fact that cores may have belonged to the transported partof the toolkit (cf. supra; Robinson et al. 2008, 65). Fig. 5.32 further demonstratesthat at several sites Wommersom cores form an important component and thatWommersom rejuvenation flakes at some sites are quantitatively even moreimportant. This may support the idea of the role of cores and in particular thoseof Wommersom quartzite as parts of a transported mobile toolkit in a curatedtechnological system, although the overall number of sites is limited.When reviewing the information on debitage (see fig. 5.33), Wommersomquartzite also forms a relatively distinct component, especially in relation to bladeswhere it was often worked in Montbani style (e.g. Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, 159;Lauwers/Vermeersch 1982, 6; Maes/Vermeersch 1984, 71; Robinson 2010, 138140; Vermeersch et al. 2005, 69).Fig. 5.34 demonstrates the contribution of GQW to the microburins found. Inview of the relation between Montbani-style debitage and the microburin techniquein point production (see Robinson 2010, 140-142), Wommersom quartzite, froma technological perspective, may have been favoured for the manufacturing ofarrowheads at some sites. Although there are also many microburins of flint, theimportance of GQW for point production (see below) may be indicative of apreferential use.Not only did Wommersom quartzite function in a different procurementand exchange system, but technologically was relatively often worked with bladedebitage. It may have mainly served the purpose of producing microliths forhunting equipment.49

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

209

100%80%60%40%

core rejuvena on GQW

cores GQW

20%

core rejuvena on int

cores intBrecht-M1 (26)

Brecht-M2 (578)

Weelde-P1 (247)

Weelde-P4 (139)

Dilsen-DIII (111)

Weelde-P5 (169)

Brecht-O3 (22)

Brecht-TH (103)

Brecht-O1 (56)

Turnhout-ZH (133)

Meeuwen-ID1-1a (72)

Helmond-SB (172)

Meeuwen-ID1-1b (11)

Brecht-O2 (41)

Opglabbeek-R (17)

Merselo-H (31)

0%

Fig. 5.32 Percentages of flint

and GQW cores and corerejuvenation flakes at siteson the southern coversand(counts in brackets).

100%80%60%40%

blades GQW

20%

blades intakes GQWakes int

Brecht-M1 (713)

Weelde-P5 (2757)

Weelde-P1 (3614)

Weelde-P4 (3197)

Brecht-TH (1728)

Brecht-M2 (6834)

Turnhout-ZH (1772)

0%

Fig. 5.33 Percentages of flint

and GQW flakes and bladesat sites on the southerncoversand (counts in brackets).

100%80%60%40%microburin GQW

20%

microburin int

210

persistent traditions

Brecht-O1 (12)

Brecht-M1 (20)

Turnhout-ZH (2)

Brecht-TH (141)

Weelde-P5 (95)

Brecht-M2 (117)

Opglabbeek-R (85)

Weelde-P1 (133)

Weelde-P4 (188)

0%

Fig. 5.34 Percentages of flint

and GQW microburins at siteson the southern coversand(counts in brackets).

5.5.5.3 Typological characteristics and Wommersom quartzite

The technological characteristics described above are reflected in some of thetypological aspects of the assemblages documented for sites with qualitativeinformation on raw material use. GQW forms a frequently used raw material forthe production of points, as already visible for the microburins. A contribution of15-20% appears to be the norm (see fig. 5.35). For backed blades Wommersomquartzite appears to have been of less importance.The production of typical formal tools such as scrapers, notched or denticulatedartefacts and in particular Montbani blades supports the importance of GQW inblade production and the subsequent fabrication of formal tools. For scrapers10-20% appears to be the norm and for notched or denticulated and Montbaniblades even 20-40% (see fig. 5.36).The contribution of GQW to the categories of retouched flakes and bladesfollows that of the technological categories of flakes and blades discussed above.Again GQW is of increased importance in the production of blades (see fig.5.37).100%

Fig. 5.36 Percentages of flint

and GQW for (A) scrapers,(B) notched and denticulatedartefacts and (C) Montbaniblades at sites on the southerncoversand (counts in brackets).

Opglabbeek-R (36)

0%

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

211

100%80%60%ret. blades GQW

40%

ret. blades int

20%

ret. akes GQW

ret. akes intOpglabbeek-R (28)

Brecht-M2 (95)

Weelde-P1 (145)

Dilsen-DIII (60)

Weelde-P4 (115)

Weelde-P5 (81)

Turnhout-ZH (10)

Brecht-M1 (2)

0%

5.5.5.4 Interpreting the contribution of Wommersom quartzite

The technological and typological comparisons above point to the importanceof Wommersom quartzite as a consistent raw material component at sites on thesouthern coversand. Its function in the production of blades and formal tools isapparent when the raw material composition of tools is compared for Wommersomquartzite and flint. This could be done for those sites that provided raw materialinformation both in general as well as in relation to individual tool types. Theseare Brecht-Moordenaarsven 1-3, Thomas-Heyveld, Dilsen-DIII, OpglabbeekRuiterskuil, Turnhout-Zwarte Heide and Weelde 1,4 and 5 (see fig. 5.38).Although only a number of sites yielded enough comparative information, itis evident that GQW forms an important contribution to the tool spectrum andthat it is relatively often used for tool production. This is further supported by arecent detailed lithic study for the Belgian Mesolithic. This indicated that for theCampine area in particular there was a clear preference for Wommersom quartzitein armature production (Robinson 2010, 180, 199).50 The superior qualities ofWommersom quartzite made it a functionally reliable material that may also havehad certain social connotations (e.g. Wiessner 1983; see also Cromb 2002, 104;Ruibal et al. 2011) as well as a role in exchange networks, or as territorial marker(Gendel 1984; 1989; Heinen 2006; Terberger 2006).51Based on these considerations the role of Wommersom quartzite supports theidea of a more curated technology and toolkit for sites on the southern coversand.This might relate to the need for qualitatively robust and trustworthy tools. Asargued earlier tool shape, size and design form important factors, especially formobile groups having to deal with transport costs (see Kuhn 1994, 438). Thecare taken in, for example, trapeze or Montbani blade production points to goodcraftsmanship and perhaps even overdesigned components. These are characteristicfor so-called reliable systems that are counted on to work when needed (Bleed1986, table 1). In this sense the use of GQW in particular might be seen asfunctioning within a curated technology (sensu Binford 1983, 283 (1979)), wheretools are used, maintained and recycled intensively. The implications of a highermobility and a typological emphasis on point production and possibly huntingmay have required reliable qualities. In that respect Wommersom quartzite

Fig. 5.37 Percentages of flint

Fig. 5.38 (A) Total counts for

tools of flint and Wommersomquartzite in 10 informativeassemblages. (B) Relativecontribution of Wommersomquartzite (6.78%) and flint(4.88%) use for tools. Numberof sites in brackets.

8032761

A (10) total counts tools

6,78%

4,88%

intGQW

B (10) relative contribution used for tools

might have served as the ideal travel toolkit. Another crucial factor in this is theavailability of raw material (see also Randolph Daniel Jr. 2001), whereby curationcan be linked to overall regional scarcity in raw material (Bamforth 1986, 40).Although there appears not to have been an absolute shortage in the availability ofWommersom quartzite, its single outcrop, distance and possible social constraintson procurement, stress the particular role GQW played in toolkits on the southerncoversand. Especially in view of the rather regular supply to sites at a distance ofup to 90 km from the source (see below).Phtanite chertSeveral sites on the southern coversand also yielded evidence for additionalraw materials (see Appendix I; Verhart 2000, 83). Of limited yet recurrentimportance is the role of phtanite or lydite of Ceroux-Mousty. This is a finegrained radiolarian chert that can be found in the valley of the Ry-Angon near thevillage of Ottignies. It is characterised by a homogeneous texture and black colour,which stresses the singularity of this type of raw material. Huyge and Vermeersch(1982, 153) argue that some material might have originated from river gravels,yet the size and quantity of artefacts at some sites (for example Brecht-OverbroekI and Brecht-Thomas Heyveld) do not point to the use of small rolled nodules.Its limited but recurrent presence in assemblages up to 140 km from the sourceindicate its sought-after (symbolic?) value. Although the number of sites andartefacts (see Appendix IIG) is rather low, the contribution of phtanite appearsto decrease as sites are situated further from the potential Ottignies source area.The (surveyed) sites of Vermeersch (1976) demonstrate a contribution of 1040 artefacts at distances up to 40 km. Further away the contribution drops, yetoutliers are formed by Weelde-Paardsdrank (16 artefacts at 85 km) and BrechtOverbroek I even yielded 90 artefacts at 82 km away (Huyge/Vermeersch 1982;Vermeersch et al. 2005, 69). The occurrence of 83 debitage products at the lattersite, including eleven unworked pieces and a core rejuvenation fragment indicatethe local processing of one or more phtanite cores and the occurrence of fivemicroburins and several trapezes point to the production of arrowheads. Otherartefacts at Overbroek I are several Montbani blades. The remaining sites yieldedfar lower quantities of phtanite, comprising blades or Montbani blades, a crestedblade, a backed blade, microburins, a trapeze, an endscraper and some debris.Although Overbroek I demonstrates that phtanite was also worked locally, thepredominance of tools and the scarcity of waste suggest that this raw materialtype was predominantly transported in the form of blanks or finished products. It

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

213

therefore appears that phtanite may have taken on a role or function comparableto Wommersom quartzite, although the limited numbers appear to indicate lessfrequent local production.

5.5.6 Raw material procurement

Apart from the technological and typological composition of the studied lithicassemblages, the role of raw material and resource procurement strategies formsand additional perspective on aspects of mobility and the settlement system (e.g.Kelly 1992, 55). The distance to the original geological source or outcrop formsjust one aspect (see Pasda 2006, 196) as ethnographic and archaeological accountspoint out the variability present in procurement strategies, including residential,logistical and large-scale mobility, down-the-line exchange, trade and raids (e.g.Dennell 1985; Kind 2006; Lovis et al. 2006a,b; Mauss 1990 (1950); RandolpDaniel Jr. 2001; Whallon 2006; Zvelebil 2006).This makes us aware of the problems involved in interpreting evidence of rawmaterial procurement strategies, but it does not necessarily hinder a comparativeanalysis of this evidence. Similarities and contrasts may be informative on actualdifferences in procurement strategies, although often these cannot be pinpointedmore precisely.

5.5.6.1 Raw material composition

Not all sites yielded information regarding the composition of raw material.For the southern coversand landscape some 22 sites or parts of sites yieldedinformation regarding the composition of the lithic raw material spectrum, whilea further 27 sites, most of which are surface collections from the Hageland area(see Vermeersch 1976), provided additional information (see Appendix IIF andIIG). Information for the other groups is limited to single sites. The availableinformation is presented in fig. 5.39.The majority of artefacts is made on regionally available rolled nodules (seeAppendix I). These can be of fluvial origin, often found within older terraces,or derive from a moraine context (in the north) and are usually of mediocre toinferior quality (e.g. Price et al. 1974, 35; Verhart 2000, 83). The river pebbles inthe south have even been described as heavily rolled and weathered nodules of frostcracked flint, recovered from river beds (Cromb 1998; Robinson 2010, 132).This demonstrates that most of the time the majority of tools could be fabricatedlocally and need not have been of high quality. Of course this type of raw materialis not always inferior (when properly selected). Probably the availability of theseresources formed a factor in choices pertaining to mobility and site location. Theother groups of raw materials are more informative on procurement and mobilitystrategies. While information is limited to a few sites, most descriptive accountsof raw material composition at other sites, such as Hoge Vaart-A27, Marinberg,Urk-E4 and the Swifterbant sites, confirm the predominance of locally availableflint of modest quality.Combining this information, it can generally be stated that sites located outsideof the southern coversand landscape relied heavily on locally available flint. Otherelements usually comprise up to 5% of the assemblage.52 This category for mostsites comprises artefacts of sandstone, chert, quartz, quartzite and phtanite, andlimited other types of flint.53

214

persistent traditions

100%80%60%40%20%

RMU otherRMU northern

southern coversand

Fig. 5.39 Percentages for raw

materials in lithic assemblagesper site. Total counts inbrackets.

wetland/m.

Liege-PS-DDD (1338)

Liege-PS-SDT (10014)

Hardinxveld-DB phase 1 (121)

Melsele-HtD (13995)

northerncoversand

Hardinxveld-PW phase 0/1 (798)

Havelte-DD (703)

Nieuw-Schoonebeek (7649)

Brecht-M3 (18)

Brecht-M1 (1165)

Weelde-P5 (9298)

Meeuwen-ID1-1b (406)

Meeuwen-ID1-2 (4855)

Weelde-P4 (9115)

Brecht-O3 (542)

Brecht-O1 (1113)

Brecht-TH (2976)

Weelde-P1 (11877)

Helmond-SB exc. (230)

Brecht-O2 (1025)

Merselo-H (2375)

Turnhout-ZH (2175)

Brecht-M2 (24185)

Meeuwen-ID1-1a (5404)

Meeuwen-ID1-3 (2103)

Meeuwen-ID1-4 (2088)

Opglabbeek-R (2101)

Dilsen-DIII (5513)

Lommel-V-3 (2142)

0%

RMU GQWRMU (local) rolled

rivervalley

5.5.6.2 Practices of procurement: Wommersom quartzite

More information may be obtained by focusing on the systems of procurement.This may be based on the percentage distribution in relation to the source area.Most information in that respect is available for the southern coversand and therole of GQW as discussed above.The geographical distribution of GQW seems to be roughly delimited by theMeuse, the Scheldt and the Rhine, covering an area of c. 40.000 km2 (Gendel1984; Van Oorsouw 1993) with occasional finds in the German Rhineland (Arora1979). This distribution in combination with certain point types has beeninterpreted as the territory of a dialectic tribe (Verhart/Arts 2005, 242; see alsoGendel 1989; Robinson 2010, 134). All sites fall within this territory. In fig.5.40 the known percentage frequencies of the studied sites with Wommersomquartzite have been plotted against their direct distance to the outcrop. The sitespreviously studied by Gendel (1984, 139-143) have also been incorporated inthe plot. Additionally several substantial surface collections from the Hagelandstudied by Vermeersch (1976, 237) and at the time attributed to a Late Mesolithicin contact with farmers have been included.54 Since the latter study was confinedto the Hageland, the clustering of artefacts within 25 km from the source areaand their absence between 25 and 50 km, is research related. In general the plotas generated by Gendel (1984, fig. 7.5) is confirmed, but more sites have becomeavailable.If sites with low artefact counts are left out an even more distinct distributionappears: up to 70 km from Wommersom rather substantial quantities ofWommersom quartzite are found in the assemblages, varying roughly between5% and 30%, with an overall mean of 14.5%. Several concentrations at Meeuwenyielded counts up to 10%, while Brecht-Moordenaarsven 1 is responsible for anoutlier of 77.3% for Wommersom quartzite and potentially represents the singleevent of a GQW knapping episode.

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

215

100

80sites

60

low counts/small area

north and eastof Meuse

40

general trend

2000

20

40

60

80

100

120

140 km

The pattern beyond c. 70-90 km distance is characterised by a decrease in sites

and a sharp drop in the GQW percentages (see also Cromb/Cauwe 2001, 56).55Currently this drop in percentage seems less related to the barrier function of theMeuse than previously suggested (Gendel 1984, 142), since sites, both east andwest of the Meuse yielded low counts. The Atlantic Meuse probably consisted ofmultiple channels with a lower energetic discharge and was probably easier to crossthan its current successor. In addition, the Meuse may have been an importantsource of raw material and a conductor for transport and interaction.Unfortunately, the overall pattern is still strongly influenced by the unevendistribution of qualitatively informative sites.56 If the supposed drop at around70-90 km is a reflection of past behaviour then both intrinsic (annual) mobilityand down-the-line exchange do not completely explain this phenomenon.Cromb and Cauwe (2001, 56) in this respect mention the transportation ofsubstantial (30-77%) amounts of GQW to the sandy area between the Meuseand Scheldt and a rapid drop beyond to c. 5%. They argue for the existence oflocal groups (microbands) exploiting small (c. 100 x 100 km) territories. Theexisting distribution patterns would be related to the seasonal movements ofthese individual groups exploiting the outcrop (see also Cromb et al. 2011b,468). Although much is still unknown regarding the procurement of lithic rawmaterial in this area and Wommersom quartzite in particular (Robinson 2010,135), a plausible scenario would be the combination of exploitation systems. Upto 70-90 km from the source, the relatively high contribution of GQW to theassemblages may be explained by an important contribution of intrinsic mobilityin combination with intensive exchange. Procurement in this zone may havebeen direct and embedded within the cycle of mobility (see Binford 1983(1979);Cromb 1998, 61). Outside this zone less intensive or less frequent contactsbetween groups of hunter-gatherers resulted in a more restricted exchange of thistype of raw material.Additional evidence is provided by the technological qualities of the formin which GQW may be procured. Wommersom quartzite occurs as tabularblocks and is easily workable without intensive preparation (Gendel 1982; VanOorsouw 1993). This might explain the absence of intensive quarrying, testing

and preparatory debris at the location of the Steensberg (see Gendel 1984, 132).Cores of Wommersom quartzite do occur in some numbers at sites such asBrecht, Meeuwen and Weelde, closer to the source, but are scarce to absent at forexample Dilsen-Dilserheide III, Nijnsel III, Merselo-Haag and (probably) alsoat Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek outside this zone (e.g. Gendel 1984, 146; Luypaertet al. 1993, 14; Verhart 2000, 79-83, 105; Vermeersch et al. 1992, 17). It isplausible that cores could have played a more prominent role within the exchangesystem with direct access, while finished artefacts or blanks may have travelledfurther into the periphery (see also Van Oorsouw 1993, 47). This forms a furtherargument indicative of the relative scarcity of GQW, its associated curated use andits interpretation as a very mobile component of the toolkit in that area (cf. supra;Cromb/Cauwe 2001, 56).Summing up, the information on GQW in combination with the technologicaland typological characteristics sketched above indicate that the use and procurementof this raw material hold a special position at sites in the southern coversandarea and the southern river valley sites. GQW may be characterized as a favouredmaterial, especially in the production of formal tools such as trapezes, that wasused alongside local rolled flint nodules and distributed through a differentmechanism, most likely incorporating embedded procurement in relation toexchange. It therefore points to a distinct degree of mobility.

5.5.6.3 Practices of procurement: long distance supply

Where Wommersom quartzite points to a system combining intrinsic annualmobility and exchange, a different accent is provided by the raw materialprocurement at both Hardinxveld sites in the wetlands of the Alblasserwaard area.Procurement there contrasts with the Wommersom and local rolled nodule systemdescribed above. Since both Hardinxveld sites are located in the extensive wetlandenvironment of the Dutch delta, the nearest outcrops of terrace flint (forming themajority of the lithic toolkit) were located at a distance of c. 70-100 km, whilenatural stone could be found at the ice-pushed ridges near Utrecht at a distance of45 km (Louwe Kooijmans 2001a; Van Gijn et al. 2001b).As is demonstrated in table 5.14 the sites of Polderweg and De Bruin potentiallywould yield 258 kg of flint and 277 kg of natural stone, if the entire site wasexcavated (x5). Since all lithic resources had to be procured and transportedover distances ranging from minimally 45 km up to 250 km, this represents anenergetically costly undertaking.57 It should be noted though that with respectto the occupation span, this means that less than 1 kg of lithic raw material wasdiscarded at the sites on a yearly basis. Furthermore it is not known to what extentraw material was procured through interaction and down-the-line exchange,although Louwe Kooijmans and Verhart (2007) argue in favour of at least partialintrinsic mobility, perhaps aided by canoes in the form of expeditions.It should be realized that the sites were not occupied continuously or for thesame purpose during the millennium that they were used. Polderweg phase 1and De Bruin phase 2 yield most material. Additionally a seasonal occupation,as was attested most evidently for Polderweg phase 1, is most likely (see LouweKooijmans 2003). These considerations, in combination with the fact that we aredealing with what was eventually left or abandoned at the site, again add value tothe (yearly) effort invested in providing the sites with a sufficient lithic supply.

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occupationperiod

N flint

N stone

W flint (g)

W stone (g)

W flint (g)overall (x5)

W stone (g)overall (x5)

W flint (g)per year

W stone (g)per year

Polderwegall phases

c. 500

18938

c. 63 (large)

25547

31648

127735

158240

51 (255)

63.3 (316.5)

De Bruinall phases

c. 1000

12263

unknown

26226

2385

131130

119250

26 (130 )

23.8 (119)

total

(c. 1000)

31201

unknown

51773

55498

258865

277490

78 (390 )

87.1 (435.5)

Raw material

rolled nodules

terrace flint

Rijckholt

northern flint

GQW

Distance tosource in km

70-100

70-100

c. 150

70-100

90

Belgian Lightgr. natural stone

c. 150

The presence of an unused pre-core of bergfrische Rijckholt flint and other largepieces (see Van Gijn et al. 2001a, 128-129), point to the nature of procurement asinclusive of considerable bulk material and indicative of canoe transport (see alsoAmes 2002), perhaps rather than down-the-line exchange. In general, the natureof the resource procurement at Hardinxveld and its isolated position with respectto resources contrasts somewhat paradoxically with the expedient nature of itsindustry. This supports the interpretation as a relative stable long-term residentiallocation.

5.5.6.4 Comparing systems of procurement

Based on the information regarding local lithic resources and Wommersomquartzite at sites in the southern coversand area and the raw material procurementat Hardinxveld a number of procurement system models may be sketched thatare characterized both by common aspects but also distinctly different emphases.Evidently these types of systems are static generalizations of past dynamicprocurement systems. These are of course influenced distinctly by the geographicaland environmental setting of the sites, the actual distance to the sources of rawmaterial and the socio-economic aspects of the communities involved. The systemshave been visualized in fig. 5.41.Based on the information available, the first model (A) is characteristic formost sites located in the northern coversand landscape, but also applies to wetlandmargin sites such as Hoge Vaart and the Swifterbant sites. The sites are situated inthe vicinity of local sources of lithic raw material. In most cases these are outcropsof erratically transported nodules of mediocre to inferior quality located at adistance of 1 or 2 km up to c. 10 km (e.g. Beuker 1989; Deckers 1982; Peeters2007). The flint is procured, used and discarded locally, while a small numberof artefacts might have been taken along to the next location (solid grey line)or exchanged (dashed grey line). Additionally other lithics might complementthe assemblage (white lines). These can be obtained through direct mobility, orindirectly through exchange. An exceptional example is provided by an artefactof Wommersom quartzite found at the site of Hoge Vaart-A27. Most of the time,however, it will be difficult to distinguish between those lithics that are part ofregular procurement practices and those that should be considered additional orexotic.The second model (B) represents lithic resource procurement in the southerncoversand landscape and at the southern river valley sites. The basic propertiesof the first system also apply here. This is visualized by the dashed square inthe upper left representing a situation similar to the first model (A). It should

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45-150

pyrite150-250

Table 5.14 Quantitative

information on the numberand weight of flint and otherstone artefacts transportedto Hardinxveld-GiessendamPolderweg and De Bruin,in combination with anestimation of the distancesto the raw material sources.Numbers in brackets areestimations for the entire site(multiplied by a factor of 5).

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10 km

stream/river

indirect procurement/exchange

direct procurement

non-local raw material

local raw material

(regular) lithic resource

site

Legend: A/B/C

20 km

GQW

Fig. 5.41 Schematic representation of hypothetical resource procurement systems in the LRA. Type A marksa system focusing on residential moves to resources in combination with exchange. Type B incorporatesthe characteristics of A but emphasizes the distribution of Wommersom quartzite. Type C is based upon thewetland sites of Hardinxveld-Giessendam Polderweg and De Bruin. Note the differences in scale.

80 km

natural stone

GQW

Ardennes/pyrite

Belgian Lightgr.

Rijckholt

terrace flint

rolled nodules

northern flint

be noted though that outcropping sources of fluvially rolled nodules were lesshomogeneously distributed, compared to the erratic flint in the north. Furthermoreprocurement of Wommersom quartzite through direct mobility (either focused orembedded), or indirectly through exchange is an important feature of this system.The relatively high contribution of GQW to the assemblages up to 70-90 kmfrom the source suggests that the Wommersom outcrop was regularly visited fromsites in mobility cycles situated in that zone. The low numbers of cores and thespecific qualities of GQW described above, also demonstrate that it was regularlytransported between sites or exchanged (e.g. Cromb/Cauwe 2001, 56; Verhart2000, table 2.14; Vermeersch et al. 1992, 17). These options have been depictedin the dashed square in the upper right corner and elsewhere. There are alsosome sites without Wommersom quartzite. For phtanite it may be suggested thatexchange mechanisms, focusing on blanks and finished products were probablymore important (cf. supra).The third model (C) has been documented for the wetland sites of HardinxveldPolderweg and De Bruin. Their isolated position away from lithic resourcesrequired a procurement strategy where raw material was transported to the sitesover considerable distances (45-250 km). There is little information on the relationbetween procurement through intrinsic mobility or exchange. The presence ofcanoes and raw material of considerable volume and weight (e.g. the Rijckholtprecore) might point to the importance of organized expeditions (Ames 2002;Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 2007), perhaps aimed at procuring larger nodules. Itis also possible that raw materials were brought to the site at the start of eachoccupation. This would be more in line with Binfords argument of embeddedprocurement (1979 (1983), 273-275) and residential mobility. Axes made ofbones of aurochs (see Louwe Kooijmans 2003; Appendix I) at least indicate directmobility to the southern upland coversand area.

5.5.6.5 From raw material patterns to mobility processes

The systems that have been sketched above have in common that they representlines of contact rather than the mechanisms of mobility underlying them. Basedon ethnographical and archaeological parallels (e.g. Dennell 1985; Kind 2006;Kelly 1995; Lovis et al. 2006b; Whallon 2006; Zvelebil 2006) and excludingtrade and raids, three general systems of procurement may be outlined. The firstinvolves intrinsic mobility in which those resources are used that, as it were,are found along the way. This involves local outcrops of raw materials that areincorporated in the yearly round as well as adjustments of residential mobilitypatterns to include them. The second involves what may be termed expeditions.These are often logistical moves towards particular raw material resources with thedistinct purpose of extracting them for use elsewhere. On may envisage that thereis a zone of overlap between an expedition and a logistical foray (sensu Binford1980) from a residential base in the relative vicinity of a raw material source. Athird mechanism is formed by exchange, either in a down-the-line pattern, or ofa more targeted nature.Binford (1983(1979), 273-275) argues that raw material procurement wasusually embedded within the scale of mobility related to subsistence activities (seealso Cromb 1998, 61; Rensink 1995, 91), a detailed study by Gould and Saggersof the Western Desert Aborigines indicates the existence of Special-Purpose

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procurement (see Gould/Saggers 1985, 120). The study argues in favour of theexistence of ritual and social mechanics governing raw material procurement: there is ample evidence that Western Desert Aborigines made special efforts to visit lithicsources, usually as part of a visit to an adjacent sacred site, but sometimes, too, in orderto obtain raw material that was known to have superior technical qualities (ibid.).This exotic stone hypothesis presupposes the existence of long-distance socialrelationships or networks enabling long-distance movement and exchange of lithicmaterials (ibid. 122). Furthermore it is argued that the utilitarian properties of theraw material, next to its accessibility, form an important factor in procurementstrategies. This is demonstrated by a case-study of James Range in Australia, wheredespite the local availability of raw materials, usually within one kilometre ofsemi-permanent water supplies, a considerable amount of exotic lithic materialwas used. The latter has superior technological qualities and was procured for thisvery reason (Gould/Saggers 1985, 124-134; Andrefsky 2005, 239-243).It is difficult to indicate which mobility processes best apply to the patternssketched above. The archaeological resolution does not allow for detecting shiftsin strategies, combinations between strategies or a clear-cut distinction betweenintrinsic procurement and exchange. In general it appears that residential mobilityand expeditions may have contributed greatly to obtain raw material from sourceswith a general open access, while (down-the-line) exchange should be consideredas well, perhaps for specific items.With respect to the models discussed above it is plausible that the regular lithicprocurement at sites on the southern and northern coversand is characterized by asystem of intrinsic mobility. Local sources of flint were exploited by sites situatedin their vicinity and these outcrops may have formed a distinct pull factor insettlement location choice. Similarly, for the southern coversand, Wommersomquartzite will have been exploited by intrinsic mobility, especially because of itsconsiderable contribution to almost all assemblages. However, since not all ofthe sites where Wommersom is present are likely to form part of mobility cyclesthat included the Wommersom outcrop, it is likely that specific expeditions incombination with exchange form a distinct aspect of this system. Further researchinto the quantitative and qualitative contribution of GQW at (Late) Mesolithicsites may shed light on the specific mechanisms that apply. For the Hardinxveldwetland sites a different principal mechanism appears to be in place. These siteswere not situated next to lithic resources, but in the vicinity of water, transportroutes and faunal and botanical sources. Subsequently they acted as magnetsattracting and accumulating the necessary raw material for habitation in this area.Procurement strategies probably included material that was brought to the sitefrom the previous residential base, but must also have included (long distance)expeditions as well as exchange. In contrast to the other sites emphasis here isdirected more towards supplying sites with sufficient raw material from elsewhere,instead of residential moves towards resources.Through this distinction we are afforded several glimpses of the character ofLate Mesolithic settlement systems and mobility. The main contrast appears to bethat between sites where consumers map onto the majority of lithic resources intheir mobility rounds and those locations where (lithic) raw material is broughtin from considerable distances (see also Binford 1980, 10). The contributionof Wommersom quartzite for sites on the southern coversand represents anintermediary position in this respect as it will partially have been the result of

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intrinsic mobility or expeditions in combination with exchange. It might be argued

that the consistency of the contribution of GQW at many sites may result fromintrinsic mobility or expeditions in relation to shorter duration of occupation andfrequent visits, characterised by a regular introduction of Wommersom quartziteto locations (see also Andrefsky 2005, 234).

5.5.7 Conclusions regarding lithic assemblage spectrum and raw

materialThe available information on the technological and typological composition ofthe studied assemblages and the raw material component is limited. Evidently thesignal of more specific or salient toolkits and systems of procurement has to animportant extent been lost within the noise of repeated occupations, activitiesand combinations of strategies (e.g. Smit 2010; Sommer 1991; see also Chapter4). Furthermore the quantitative distribution of sites, as argued earlier, is biasedtowards the southern coversand area, implying that similarities and differences aremainly coloured with respect to this dataset.58 Taking these aspects into account anumber of general conclusions may be given.

The group of sites on the southern and northern coversand and the rivervalley sites are mainly characterized by the importance of points in thetool spectrum. For most sites on the southern coversand points distinctlyform a consistent dominant category. This underscores the importance ofhunting activities. In most cases the typological differences between siteson the northern and southern coversand appear to be more gradual thanfundamental. The limited number of sites on the northern coversand dodemonstrate a more varied typological spectrum, while points and Montbaniblades are typical for sites on the southern coversand. Next to this, both thetechnological and typological characteristics point to similarities between thesouthern river valley sites and those on the southern coversand. This is furthersupported by the contribution of Wommersom quartzite. This could indicatethat sites in both areas were part of comparable systems of mobility.

The wetland sites, in particular both Hardinxveld sites, demonstrate a

distinctly different character in the tool spectrum of their assemblages. Nonformal tools, in particular retouched flakes, form an important component andpoint to an expedient technology. This is substantiated by the technologicalcomponent which is convincingly flake-based. This contrasts most with the(importance of the) curated blade-based component and importance of huntingimplements in assemblages on the southern coversand. These differencesmay suggest different technological systems, where expedient systems asat Hardinxveld may indicate a lower residential mobility (cf. supra). Thisdivergent composition should, however, be understood against the wetlandbackground of the Hardinxveld sites, their particular environmental contextand related specific activity spectrum (see also Louwe Kooijmans 2003). Someof the wetland margin sites are adjacent to the northern coversand uplandsand may be more related to sites there.

In relation to both the technological and typological characteristics of the

studied assemblages, the role of Wommersom quartzite in the spectra of siteson the southern coversand may be understood in particular in relation to the

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persistent traditions

production of formal tools such as points (trapezia) and Montbani blades.

It therefore functioned as a raw material with a distinct purpose, intent andprobably value.

Regarding raw material procurement the main component in the systems of

sites on the southern coversand, northern coversand and of river valley sites isformed by local sources of flint (of erratic or fluvial origin) that were mostlypart of the intrinsic mobility round. The role of Wommersom quartzite inassemblages on the southern coversand should additionally be understoodwithin a similar system of procurement, most likely in combination withtargeted expeditions and exchange. Of a different nature is the type ofresource procurement demonstrated at Hardinxveld. There a logistical systemwas in place which supplied this wetland location with raw material overconsiderable distances, most likely through expeditions in combination withexchange.

The limited indications provided by the studied tool assemblages, as well as

the problems involved in characterising them, form a further indication forthe fact that the study of Late Mesolithic mobility and the character of itssettlement system should be studied within the wider context of the sites andtake into account aspects such as ecological context, site location choice, sitestructure, investment, raw material choice etc. (see Kelly 1992; Kent 1992,635). Only a combined approach offers the opportunity to complementarilycompare sites and evidence.

5.6 DiscussionThe comparison of information from various categories in the precedingparagraphs will now be placed in an interpretative framework. The main emphasiswill be placed on the degree to which the information may be understood withavailable models and information from ethnography. As has become evident,most information is available for the sites of the southern coversand group thatare relatively intercomparable, and these contrast most with the the distinctwetland locations Hardinxveld-Giessendam Polderweg and De Bruin with theirqualitatively different characteristics. The interpretative potential of the other sitesand groups studied is quantitatively limited. The following section will introducemodels for mobility and settlement systems and discuss the available evidence anddiversity.

5.6.1 Data criticism and interpretative approach

The classificatory systems for a distinction in settlement types dating to theMesolithic in the LRA have been discussed and criticized above, most notablythose of Newell (1973) and Price (1978; see also Mellars 1976a). Criticism mainlycentred on the fact that the sites used in the analysis dated to different phases ofthe Mesolithic and were not found within one regional context. Environmentalvariables or site location choice were not incorporated in the analysis either.Moreover, the models did not account for possible reuse of the same locations(cf. supra; see also Lanting/Van der Plicht 1997/1998; Niekus 2006; Raemaekers1999; Verhart 2003; Verhart/Groenendijk 2005). Meanwhile, other studies havedemonstrated that these locations often consist of diachronically inhabited,

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spatially overlapping units (e.g. Cromb et al. 2006; Peeters 2007; Rensink 1995;Sara 2006; Van Gils/De Bie 2008). Only sites that have been sealed in a pristinestate of a settlement system could potentially be classified in such a system (seealso Binfords (1981b) Pompeii-Premise). For the Mesolithic these situations haveonly rarely been documented and are not representative (e.g. Bokelmann 1986).This evokes the question of what evidence for (Late) Mesolithic site functionand settlement system we are left with. On the basis of the sites reviewed aboveit can only be concluded that almost all should be interpreted as time-averagedpalimpsests of multiple visits to the same location and that there is often noclosed association between artefacts, features and radiocarbon dates (e.g. Crombet al. 2012). Due to reuse, spatial overlap, site formative processes, and absenceof organic remains (see also Conkey 1987), resolution at most sites will remaincoarse. Even the most informative episode of occupation at the wetland site ofHardinxveld-Polderweg (phase 1) is the result of 100-200 years of visits andactivities.This does not mean that most of the sites we study are uninformative, but itdoes mean that we should adjust our questions to the resolution at hand and tunein to the type of signal that is present (see Chapter 4). Since most Late Mesolithicsites that are detected in the LRA can be seen as multi-component palimpsests ofrepetitive visits to the same location, questions should thus focus on their nature(see Jochim 1991, 315). Why did these locations develop into frequently visitedsites, or persistent places (sensu Schlanger 1992)? What is the rationale behindsettlement location choice? Is there evidence for consistent structuring of spaceor investment in locations and activities? Which emphases are to be found in theoverall artefact assemblage (see for example Bamforth 1991)? How do these relateto the environment and how does this differ from other persistent places?While these questions will not lead to the identification of a site typology orreveal specific chronological developments, they are informative on (part of ) theLate Mesolithic settlement system. In the following, results of the comparativeanalysis of Late Mesolithic sites presented above will be interpreted in the lightof aspects of mobility and the settlement system. The distinction between logisticand residential mobility as proposed by Binford (1980) will be used as a startingpoint.

5.6.2 Theory on mobility

Before interpreting the archaeological patterning regarding Late Mesolithicmobility a number of theoretical aspects are presented. These form a frameworkfor understanding the characteristics of and differences between the studied sitesand their implications with respect to settlement systems and mobility.

and Archaeological Site Formation is oneof the most influential contributions to

the understanding of hunter-gatherer mobility (Fitzhugh/Habu (eds) 2002). Inthis article Binford distinguishes between two resource strategies with distinctpatterns of mobility related to the exploitation of the natural environment. Thefirst strategy, termed residential mobility, is characterised by frequent residentialmoves whereby camps are located or mapped onto resource patches. Consumersare thus moved to goods. Binford termed these groups foragers (1980, 5-7).60The other resource strategy is labeled logistical mobility and is practised by whatBinford terms collectors. Base camps are located next to one critical resourceor magnet location which is exploited for an extended period of time. Otherresources (food and non-food, see Binford/Johnson 2002, viii) are procuredthrough logistical mobility, involving specialized task groups. These might operateat a great distance from the base camp, moving goods to consumers. Technologicalinvestment in storage and facilities is common (Binford 1980, 10).While foraging systems are most common for areas with (regular) resourcepatches or undifferentiated areas (e.g. the tropical rainforest), collector strategiesare accommodations to [spatially and/or temporally] incongruent distributionsof critical resources or conditions (Binford 1980, 5-10). These are often groupsliving in arctic or sub-arctic environments (see Kelly 1995, 120). Using EffectiveTemperature (ET) as a measure, Binford demonstrated the importance of the linkbetween mobility and the environment.The model stresses the strategies behind the patterns we observe and specifiesthe material consequences of hunter-gatherer behaviour in intersite variability intool assemblages and site types (Habu/Fitzhugh 2002, 2). This latter aspect gavearchaeologists potential tools for the interpretation of observed site patterningwithin a framework of Middle-Range theory. Rensink (1995, 86) adds that theconcepts not only reflect upon resource exploitation strategies, but also refer toother aspects of hunter-gatherer life, such as technological organization, socialstructure, anticipation and planning depth. While this adds to the value of thismodel, several points of criticism need to be raised.

5.6.2.2 Criticism of the forager-collector model

While the forager-collector model provides a valuable tool for studying huntergatherer mobility and settlement systems, certain aspects of it and similar models(e.g. Bettinger 1999; Hayden 1981; Woodburn 1980) should be pointed out. Theforager-collector model has been used to dichotomously categorize archaeologicalsites as belonging to one of either category (for criticism and examples see Binford/Johnson 2002, xi; Chatters 1987, 337-338; Kelly 1992, 45; 1995, 117; Raemaekers1999, 118, but also 192; Rensink 1995, 99; and recently Cromb et al. 2011b).However, the concepts were not intended as polar types of subsistence-settlementsystems, but as a graded series from simple to complex (Binford 1980, 12). Foragersand collectors form broad generalizations on a continuum of resource strategies,with many intermediate and combined strategies in between (see Chatters 1987,337). The central message therefore is that most of the actual mobility, as it wasexperienced by past groups of hunter-gatherers, involved a multitude of decisionsat the agency-level of groups and individuals for a variety of predominantlyeconomic, but also social, political and ritual reasons.61 Mobility is also distinctlyrelated to issues of age, gender and skill (e.g. Kelly 1992, 57), frequently leading to

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both group fissioning as well as aggregation (Chatters 1987, 348). It should thusbe realized that mobility consists of a very complex, interrelated set of motivations,most of which are beyond our archaeological scope. Bearing these arguments inmind, one can only agree with Kelly (1992, 60; see also Chatters 1987, 337) thatin order to arrive at a better understanding of mobility and sedentism, we need tounderstand that mobility is not just variable, but multi-dimensional.While this places the forager-collector model in perspective it does not argueagainst its use. Many of the nuances introduced above lack characteristic materialvisibility. This makes them important as cautionary tales, but of less use toarchaeology. The strength of the forager-collector model lies in its identificationand contrasting of two very different resource strategies, each with a distinctive typeof mobility, organization of movement, settlement pattern, material consequenceand potential archaeological output. While the latter aspect is confounded bymany of the factors mentioned above, most importantly redundancy in site use, themodel offers two well-defined extremes for interpreting archaeological evidencefor mobility systems, without denying that there is in fact much variability thatshould be accounted for (cf. Kelly 1995, 34).From this perspective it is appropriate to use the forager-collector model asa heuristic framework for identifying and analyzing this variability, also withrespect to archaeological evidence of mobility strategies and settlement patterns.A schematic representation of this framework has been depicted in fig. 5.42.

residential mobility/ foragers

Fig. 5.42 Model of residential

versus logistical mobility andethnographic characteristics.

logistical mobility/ collectors

residential basefieldcamplocationstation or cache

resource patchdaily foragingradiuslogistic radius

map based on:

residential movelogistic move

ethnographic referenceCharacteristics:-common in mid- to high latitudes-common in continental or humid/tropical areas-lower population densities/pressure-high famine mortality-high % terrestrial-no to little dependence on storage-high residential/low logistical mobility

5.6.2.3 Site location, settlement structure and persistency

Site location and site structure are related to the possibilities provided andconstraints imposed by the natural environment. The choice for a certainsite location is often based upon the availability of crucial resources in theenvironment. These in turn influence the character of settlement as for exampleexpressed in refuse areas, spatial structuring or features. It also constrains thespectrum of activities performed at a location and hence the specialized or broadnature of the toolkit and the technological choices made therein. Within theforager-collector model (Binford 1980) this targeting of resources plays a crucialrole. Within collector strategies, sites are located near a crucial resource and otherresources are harvested in a logistic manner. Forager strategies exploit resourcesuntil the diminishing returns drop below a certain threshold (depending on thespecific situation; see Kelly 1995) and subsequently move to a new location. Asa result, base camps in a logistically mobile system are inhabited longer thanbase camps in a residentially mobile system. Based upon one of Schiffers generalprinciples (1995, 37), there is an inverse relationship between increased intensityof occupation and spatial correspondence between use and discard locations.While this does not preclude the factor of anticipated mobility (see Kent 1992;Kent/Vierich 1989), it means that the degree of spatial structuring at sites that areinhabited for extended periods of time will be greater compared to sites that arenot.62 Additionally, within stable systems it can also be expected that, given the(seasonal) regeneration of resources, the frequency of reoccupation will be greaterin residential systems. From this it follows that there might be an archaeologicallydetectable distinction between regularly occupied sites of some duration with acertain degree of spatial structuring and investment and more frequently occupiedsites with a more erratic character. While the degree of permanency of base campsin both systems thus might be the same, there is a considerable difference in thefrequency and duration of visits.A note on persistencyIn relation to the discussion on permanency outlined above, an alternative andcomplementary perspective is offered by the perspective of persistent places.Almost all Late Mesolithic sites analysed here can to some extent be characterisedas persistent places. This generally means that sites have been used for extensiveperiods of time, but there are two important additional considerations. Firstly,different and non-exclusive time-scales might be active. For example, thetemporally unrelated killing and butchering of aurochses at Jardinga on twoseparate occasions forms one end of the spectrum, while the extensive andconsistent use of Marinberg, or the seasonally repetitive occupation of Polderwegform another. Secondly, different motives may result in the long-term use of aspecific location. In this vein, Schlanger argues that persistent places are locationsthat are repeatedly used during the long-term occupation of a region (1992, 97)and defines three main categories.1. Persistent places that have unique qualities with respect to activities performed,such as the proximity of water, resources or good hunting grounds.

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2. Persistent places that are marked by features that serve as a focus forreoccupation. This particularly relates to built environment, such as huts,houses, (storage) facilities etc. This category thus relates to what was definedabove as investment.3. Persistent places as locations that through their long history of occupationharbour considerable quantities of cultural materials. These accumulationsof material might become important structuring components of the culturallandscape and provide an exploitable resource of expedient or cached tools.Here sites are thus more or less defined as quarries, where necessary rawmaterials can be obtained by scavenging.While Schlangers subdivision covers important motives for the development ofpersistent places, it is mechanistic in that only economic or material incentives aredefined (see also Barton et al. 1995, 81). Various ethnographic accounts provideevidence for the fact that the fixedness of mobility rounds to certain places is toa significant extent culturally motivated (e.g. Kelly 1992, 48; Kent 1992; Vickers1989). Religious and political motives, marriage opportunities, trade and exchangemight all have formed additional incentives for visiting the same locations overand over again. In this respect Barton et al. (1995, 110) particularly point outthe range of meanings attached to features in the natural landscape and theirmeaning as boundary or reference point, means of transport and communicationand for defining social and group identities. It is thus important to note that whileeconomic or material considerations might have formed the initial reason to visita certain place, other motives will, in time, have contributed to the persistency ofthese locations, or even have become the main reason for visiting.The contrast sketched above indicates that from a general perspective there isa difference between persistent places in relation to the combination of a specificset of consistent conditions and persistent places that combine a multitude ofmotives, including considerations of distinct socio-cultural character. At the lattersites there may be a more consistent use of space over time, involving distinctplace-bound structuring and investment. Specific places were sought out andphysically altered, through structures and facilities, to cater to the (seasonally)recurrent needs of their inhabitants. The presence of huts, canoes, facilities suchas fish weirs and considerable quantities of raw material point to a certain degreeof inalienable ownership; specific places seemed to have belonged to specificgroups. A claim that might have been substantiated by the presence of burialgrounds and depositions and that might have involved increased territoriality andappropriation of place (Kelly 1995; Littleton/Allen 2007, 295; Nicholas 2007a,b;Price/Brown 1985, 11; Rowley-Conwy 2001, 44; Zvelebil 2003b).

5.6.3 Implementation: site location choice and settlement structure

The section above presented a theoretical background and approach for dealingwith (Late Mesolithic) hunter-gatherer settlement systems and mobility. Thisalso highlighted the difficulties involved in relation to both the ethnographicalvariability and the (remaining) archaeological patterning of mobility. In thefollowing the characteristics of Late Mesolithic occupation for the sites and regionsstudied will be discussed against this background.

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persistent traditions

5.6.3.1 Southern coversand area: consistent conditions

Most locations on the southern coversand lack internal structuring. In some cases(e.g. Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 5) flint knapping debris, remains of hearths,hazelnutshells and bones have been found together. While it can be argued that theabsence of temporal resolution prevents a proper analysis of the contemporaneityof these activities and events of refuse disposal, the same argument can be used toindicate the absence of any consistency in the spatial structure of these locations.More important arguments are, however, found on another level. Most of thesites in the southern coversand landscape show similar characteristics in sitelocation choice, mainly focusing on (sun-exposed) slopes of coversand dunesand ridges bordering on little streams or fens. Site location choice seems tohave been less governed by a return to a specific place, than by a return to aspecific set of conditions existing within a known patch or rich area with respectto resources, water and perhaps wildlife diversity (Amkreutz 2009; Van Gils etal. 2009; Vanmontfort et al. in press). This led to the development of extensivesite complexes of chronologically mostly unrelated, yet spatially contiguous andoverlapping clusters and concentrations (see also Vanmontfort et al. 2010b, 48).At Lommel-Molse Nete and Opglabbeek-Ruiterskuil recent prospecting researchwas able to indicate the large extent of these scatters of finds. At Opglabbeek the1971 excavation measuring 145 m2 could for example be correlated with an areaof 20000 m2 yielding Mesolithic finds (see Van Gils/De Bie 2006). Despite thetaphonomically limited resolution this points to a high degree of redundancy,correlation between activity and refuse areas and a generally limited investment infeatures other than occasional hearths. Thus, many aspects of these sites point toa considerable level of residential mobility.

5.6.3.2 Wetlands and wetland margin: from space to place

The consistency in site location choice and settlement structure as exemplified byHardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin contrasts with the characteristics outlinedfor the southern coversand area above. Analogous to the positioning strategyemployed by collectors (see Binford 1980, 14-15) these sites are evidently locatednear, or within an area of (critical) resources. The elaborate wetlands providedwater, shelter and an abundance of wildlife and vegetable sources. Next to terrestrialspecies, aquatic resources such as fish, beavers and many species of birds could beprocured. Furthermore many species of wood and other botanical resources such aswaternut (Trapa natans), yellow waterlily (Nuphar lutea) and waterlily (Nymphaeaalba) were available (Bakels/Van Beurden 2001). Although it is evident that thefens and small streams of the southern coversand also provided rich elementswithin the landscape, the scale and character of the wetlands of the (Dutch) deltaform a difference of kind rather than degree. As demonstrated, for instance, by theseasonal information available for Polderweg and De Bruin (see Louwe Kooijmans2003; cf. infra) these extensive wetlands provided a highly sustainable landscapeenabling an occupation duration of up to several months. There is evidence thatthe sites were used on multiple occasions during the year (see Louwe Kooijmans2001a,b). From this it follows that residential locations in this area are liable to becharacterised by an increased level of spatial structuring and investment. This isconfirmed by the archaeological evidence of both Polderweg and De Bruin. Bothsites were located at a considerable distance from dry land, which over time only

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increased (see Louwe Kooijmans 2001a, fig. 15.3a). Furthermore, out of the manyavailable locations, the rather small donk of Polderweg and, later on, the donkof De Bruin were specifically selected for establishing residential bases (see alsoLouwe Kooijmans 2001a, 449). This implies investment in transport over waterin order to reach these locations and this may have been preferred above a sitelocation in the wetland margin.63 It also implies that specific places were targeted,although there was in fact more or less an archipelago of locations with similarqualities (e.g. Verbruggen 1992b). The entire array of motivations for revisitingthese locations is not within the scope of archaeological resolution, although itis likely that economic reasons, next to physical site location arguments, wereonly part of the story (see Barton et al. 1995; Schlanger 1992). The effects can bedocumented in the continuity represented in radiocarbon dates, the consistencyin seasonality and the amount of material that was brought to the site. From aspatial perspective, the continuous and recurrent structuring of the site forms afurther argument for a consistent use of space. This involves the existence of aliving area on the top and on the slopes of the dune, activity areas on the slopeand at the foot and refuse disposal areas in the bordering marsh. It represents aconsistent, graded use of space practised over a considerable length of time. Thedegree of spatial structuring, the level of redundancy and the fixedness of theselocations point towards a logistical, collector-type mobility strategy.

5.6.3.3 Northern coversand area and river valley sites: within thecontinuumUnfortunately most other sites are less informative. Hearthpit sites such asMarinberg or Hoge Vaart are located at the convergence of ecozones, which mayhave provided possibilities for an extended stay. The resolution of the 14C data andthe absence of clearly associated faunal remains prevent an indication of the actuallength of stay. The hearthpit sites found on the river dunes at Swifterbant sufferfrom the same problems. Hypothetically, the duration of occupation at hearthpitsites might be anywhere between the average site occupation on the southerncoversand and the seasonal occupation of for example Polderweg. Investment inspecific facilities such as hearthpits (see Perry 1999; Verlinde/Newell 2006) andthe (questionable) spatial structuring with respect to flint knapping argue formore integrated spatial structuring. Similar conclusions may be reached for othersites. Bergumermeer-S64B for example was located on the margin of an extensivelake, providing rich resources. This might be correlated with the presence ofindications for spatial structuring as demonstrated by features, hearths, postholesand manuports (see Newell 1980). More evidence for an extended stay andincreased spatial structuring is provided by the southern river valley sites. LigePlace St.-Lambert, Remouchamps-Station LeDuc and to a lesser extent NamurGrognon are all located in the margins of rich floodplain environments of middlesized to large rivers. While all sites show evidence of considerable investment,most emblematically demonstrated by the stone-based structures (Gob/Jacques1985; Van der Sloot et al. 2003), both Lige and Remouchamps also providedevidence for spatial structuring.

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5.6.4 Features and investment

Next to site location choice and internal settlement structure, investment instructures, facilities and places in general has also been mentioned as an importantfactor for determining the degree of mobility (e.g. Binford 1980; 1990; Chatters1987; Kelly 1992; 1995; Kelly et al. 2005; Kent 1992; Rafferty 1985). Thisfactor is also correlated to a significant extent to the environment. Basically theavailability of resources at a certain location determines the sustainability of itsoccupation (see Rafferty 1985, 119). In forager systems resource deficiencies aresolved by residential mobility. Diminishing returns, especially with respect tosubsistence, form a major incentive to move (Sahlins 1972; Kelly 1992; 1995,132-141). In collector systems the problem of diminishing returns is tackled bylogistical mobility. Task groups move out to procure specific resources which arebrought back to the residential camp (Binford 1980, 10). These may be bulkresources and storage may be necessary (Binford 1980, 15; Chatters 1987, 337).From this it follows that the residential base thus functions as a hub or centralnode within the logistical system (see fig. 5.42). Since residence is changed lessfrequently it becomes worthwhile to invest in more solid structures, dwellings,facilities, storage capacity etc., all the more since these locations would be usedfrequently over time. Special notice should be made of so-called anticipatedmobility (Kent 1991; 1992; Kent/Vierich 1989), related to Binfords planningdepth (1976; 1979 (1983)). This is the hypothesis that the length of time peopleplan to occupy a camp is an important determinant of factors such as site size,number and size of dwellings, structures and facilities.64Late Mesolithic features and investment in relation to mobility andsettlement systemBased on a review of the variety and quantity of features and artefacts presentat sites, the southern coversand locations studied are characterised by shortterm occupations with a limited degree of investment. The opposite could beconcluded for the wetland locations of Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin andthe southern river valley sites. Information regarding hearthpit sites and otherlocations is more difficult to interpret. Hearthpits may have formed a specificfacility as well as the investment in stone pavements at the sites in the Meusevalley near Lige.In the following a number of characteristic aspects of investment will bediscussed in more detail. These are subsequently followed by a (brief ) discussionin relation to the evidence provided by the studied sites and its repercussions forLate Mesolithic mobility and the settlement system.

5.6.4.1 Dwelling structures

Cross-cultural studies demonstrate that investing labour in dwelling structuresis often related to reduced residential mobility (Gillman 1987; Kelly 1992).65Kent (1992) provided links between population size, anticipated mobilityand number and size of houses, while Rafferty (1985) acknowledges a certainconnection between sedentariness and housing, but also stresses the variousnuances in it. Binford (1990) stresses the strong link between the type of housingand its environmental setting. He suggests that there is generally an inverserelationship between mobility and investment in housing (1990, 120) and further

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distinguishes some broad patterns. A first concerns the fact that among modernhunter-gatherers shelters are almost always found at residential sites. However,since shelters are often expediently constructed they might leave no trace in thearchaeological record, often leading to misinterpretations in site typology (ibid.120). Binford (1990, 123-130) introduces several broad patterns observed inhousing among almost 200 groups of historic and proto-historic hunter-gatherers,related to different systems of mobility. The most important trends have beensummarized in table 5.15.Several trends can be noted. Very mobile people tend to construct circular orsemi-circular dwellings, while elliptic forms are characteristic of semi-nomadicgroups. Rectangular forms seem associated with more sedentary communities(Binford 1990, 123). This could be related to the fact that more mobile dwellingssuch as tents and some huts tend not to be rectangular. Rafferty (1985, 130, basedon Flannery 1972) adds that rectangular shapes increase flexibility in the use ofwalls and addition of new rooms. These are features that might be of importancewhen structures are inhabited for a longer time.The investment in placement of the dwelling increases with sedentariness.Very mobile groups tend to place their structures on the ground surface, while lessmobile groups increasingly invest in preparation of the house site. This also relatesto the portability of dwelling structures (e.g. hides, posts etc.) and the availabilityof local materials around the site location. Low investment is related to the scaleof mobility and transport costs, while high investment is related to the plannedduration of stay or planned reuse (Binford 1990, 124; see also Janes 1983, citedin David/Kramer 2001, 288).66 Other evidence is provided by the similarity inwall and roof material in primary and alternative housing, which is related toeither a very homogeneous type of mobility or almost no residential mobility atall. Seasonal contrasts in mobility and social and activity-related variability tendto yield greater numbers of alternative housing (ibid. 127). Wall and roof materialin mobile groups are often the same (e.g. hide tents or ephemeral structures ofbranches), while roofing material is either transportable (e.g. hides), or locallyaccumulated (e.g. vegetation or bark). With less mobile groups there is more

Table 5.15 Major correlations

between housing and mobility.Based on Binford (1990).

mobilityhousing aspects

fully nomadic

semi-nomadic

semi-sedent.

fully sedentary

ground plan

(semi)-circular

semi-circular/elliptical

rectangular

rectangular

structure placement

ground surface

ground surface/semisubterranean

semi-subterranean/ground surface

semi-subterranean

investment

low, related to mobility/transport costs

intermediate

intermediate

high, related toplanned duration andre-use

wall and roof material in

primary houses

same

same

different

different

wall and roof material in

alternative houses

same

same

same

different

roofing material

hides/grass/bark

grass/earth/mats

wood/earth/ grassor bark

wood/bark/grass

interpretation primaryroofing material

transportable

locally accumulated

increased investment

increased investment

alternative housing

mainly absent

present

present

mainly absent

characteristic of semi-nomadic and semi-sedentary hunter-gatherers

roofing material alternative housing

grass/bark/earth

increase in hides

bark/mats

increase vegetativematerial

related to productivityenvironment

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comments

related to transportability and environmental

productivity

difference between wall and roofing material and the latter might require moreinvestment. Alternative housing is most common in semi-nomadic groups and itis here most differences are noted between primary and alternative houses. In verymobile groups the same type of housing is used in all seasons, while in sedentarygroups there might be a difference in roofing of summer and winter houses (ibid.129-130).One important trend emerging from the hunter-gatherer dataset used byBinford (1990) is the unmistakable relationship between a dependence on huntingand the portability of primary housing (cf. supra; see Binford (1990, table 11)).Binford (1990, 137) argues that since prey animals move and are differentiallyresponsive to shifting productivity in plant communities, as well as more difficultto kill, this ensures that hunters of these animals exploit larger ranges and willbe quite mobile. In short, terrestrial hunters make many more residential movesper year, travel much greater distances over an annual round, and in turn exploitvastly larger areas than do aquatic resource exploiters (see also Kelly 1995, 130131). This would potentially lead to (archaeologically) traceable differences inhousing.Implementation: dwellings and mobility in the LRA Late MesolithicThe ethnographic framework presented above only provides general trends incorrelation between housing and mobility, but the information is of some value forthe sites studied here. First of all, for the LRA and to a certain extent NorthwesternEurope in general, there is little evidence for (Late) Mesolithic dwelling structureswith a rectangular shape (e.g. Grn 1995; 2003; Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001;Karsten/Knarrstrm 2003).67 On the other hand rectangular shapes do occur inthe slightly later Swifterbant culture as for example demonstrated at SwifterbantS3 and perhaps at Hde I (see Appendix I) and the subsequent Hazendonk group(see Houkes/Bruning 2008; Kampffmeyer 1991; De Roever 2004; Raemaekerset al. 1997; Stapel 1991). They are therefore potentially related to changes insocial structure and mobility patterns, possibly related to the incipient stages ofagriculture.Based on this data it is more likely that the evidence for dwelling structuresin the Late Mesolithic should be attributed to fully mobile or semi-nomadicgroups (see table 5.15). Within the Late Mesolithic some differentiation is visible.The absent or vague indications for dwelling structures provided by sites in thesouthern coversand landscape (see 5.4.4.5) may point to the existence of ephemeraldwelling structures, which were either transportable (tents) or made expedientlyof locally available resources (see Binford 1990, 122-124). Sites such as Meeuwenand Weelde provide limited evidence for this (Pilati 2001; 2009). Potentiallyincreased investment in dwelling structures is provided by sites located in richenvironments allowing for longer site duration and thus investment. The sunkendwellings of Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin and the energetic investmentin stone pavements and dwelling structures at Lige and Remouchamps providethe best example for this.It is not possible to directly associate the general absence of structuraldwellings on the southern coversand with a fully mobile settlement system, orfor that matter the more structural evidence for dwellings, including the semisubterranean dwellings, with semi-nomadic groups. It can, however, be assumedthat the absence of structural dwelling structures is related to a higher residential

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mobility, including factors such as portability and expedient use of materials. Thiswould be in line with the character of occupation established so far for sites inthe southern coversand landscape as well as several other locations. Converselyit is likely that structural investment pays off in a situation where an increasedsustainable occupation is possible. Extensive wetlands and larger floodplains arethe most likely settings for this scenario.

5.6.4.2 BurialsBurials may form a further indication of investment in distinct places and reducedresidential mobility. Binford (2004) was able to distinguish several universal trendsbetween beliefs about death, mortuary practices and the character and mobilityof hunter-gatherers.68 One of the clearest important trends is the relationshipbetween disposal area, group size and mobility. Binford (2004, 7) suggests thatburial, or mortuary practice for that matter, might occur at any given momentand is thus not necessarily related to archaeologically detectable places such assettlements. Disposal of the deceased is thus not geographically and temporallybound, or not very much so. According to Binford (ibid., 10) this observation ismost consistent for hunter-gatherers with a high degree of mobility, i.e. foragers.On the other hand, the use of small cemeteries for disposal of the dead, oftenassociated with traditional family space, is most common among groups of huntergatherers where extended families form the core unit of the group (Binford 2004,7). These groups are associated with a lower degree of residential mobility andgenerally comprise collectors (ibid., 10-11). Choice of burial location is thereforerelated to both the degree of residential mobility and population density (ibid., 8,9). There is thus a correlation between settlement pattern and disposal practices,whereby the use of small cemeteries or specific locations is inversely related toresidential mobility.In addition Littleton and Allen (2007, 294) argue that cemeteries might havebeen less planned than is often assumed and their development and maintenanceis interwoven with the perception of certain locations as persistent places. Theexistence of burials at these sites might have structured subsequent actions,creating a meaningful landscape (Littleton/Allen 2007, 295). Burial areas thereforeare created by a process of accumulation over time, and may in turn, by becomingmortuary landscapes, structure human activity and contribute to the landscape ofmeaning. (ibid., 295). There might thus be a difference of degree between isolatedburials and cemeteries. Which locations developed into persistent places andwere seen as suitable for burial of course remains unanswered. Nevertheless, thereare ethnographic as well archaeological indications for a correlation betweenritual activities such as deposition and burial and specifically wet locations, orwet margins (Koch 1999; Larsson 1990a,b; 2004; 2007a,b; Littleton/Allen 2007;Nicholas 1998a,b; Nicholas 2007b; Peeters 2007; Zvelebil 2003b). In this respect itneed not only be down to taphonomy that the best indications for Late Mesolithicburials have until now been found in wetlands.Implementation: burials and mobility in the LRA Late MesolithicThe overall evidence for Late Mesolithic burial and cremation, let alone cemeteries,is not unambiguous and restricted to only a few sites (see section 5.4.4.6; seealso Louwe Kooijmans 2007b). The evidence is restricted to calcined but undated

Kooijmans 2007b; 2012b) sitting graves at Marinberg (Verlinde/Newell 2006; cf.supra), loose and undated bone material at several other sites, including Swifterbantlocations (Constandse-Westermann/Meiklejohn 1979) and inhumations as well asstray bone material at Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin (Louwe Kooijmans2003; 2007a). The latter two sites provided most evidence for structured andcontinued mortuary practices of both humans and dogs (see Appendix I; LouweKooijmans 2007b).69Overall, burial practices only form a limited indication for investment andrestricted residential mobility. There is no evidence to suggest that burial locationswere only maintained in places with increased duration of occupation, or that thedeceased were specifically brought to these sites. If evidence from the precedingMiddle Mesolithic is included then cremation graves are for example known fromtypical upland locations such as Dalfsen-Welsum and Oirschot V (Verlinde 1974;Arts/Hoogland 1987). Recently another Middle Mesolithic cremation grave hascome to light at the river dune site of Rotterdam-Beverwaard (see Appendix I; Zijlet al. 2011).Both ethnographic and archaeological studies indicate that many motivationsunderlie the eventual outcome of mortuary practices (e.g. Binford 2004; Hertz1907; Nilsson Stutz 2003; Parker Pearson 1999). In spite of this variability inorigins it can be suggested that there is a possible reason for the development ofsmall cemeteries within the Early Neolithic Swifterbant communities (see LouweKooijmans 2007b). The Swifterbant cemeteries are characterised by a distinctuniformity in layout, orientation and tradition, also involving practices of reburialand manipulation of bones. This suggests a certain fixedness of these locationsresulting from repeated visits and a possible lower residential mobility. It can beargued that Late Mesolithic burials such as those of Polderweg and De Bruin,under less intense but comparable conditions, were also specifically located atthese sites. They may form early examples of mortuary practices that perhaps didnot take place in relation to small fixed cemeteries, but represented more than acoincidental burial ground.Finally it should be stressed that while the limited evidence for mortuarypractice in the form of burial may hint at relationships between people and(persistent) places, many of the other disposal practices and forms of bodytreatment go unnoticed. Their limited visibility and less structured archaeologicalnature however do not suggest a less intensive potential relation to place.

5.6.4.3 StorageA further issue that should be addressed with respect to investment and reducedmobility is storage. This is generally perceived as an important mechanismaccommodating a lower residential mobility as well as a larger group size andto deal with issues such as scarcity and seasonality (e.g. Anderson 2006; Binford1980; Chatters 1987; Cribb 1991; Jochim 1991; Kelly 1992; 1995; Kent 1992;Smith 2003). Others have additionally interpreted storing as an important featureof emerging complexity (Price/Brown 1985; Keeley 1988; Testart 1982), especiallysince it might conflict with the basic rule of sharing among foragers (e.g. BirdDavid 1990; 1992a). In this perspective storing is thought to develop in richenvironments, where the accumulated resources might lead to the development

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of social hierarchies. According to Binford (1980, 15) storage enables huntergatherers to solve the problem of temporal incongruity of resources beyondtheir period of availability in the habitat, but it develops mainly as a response tospecific environmental conditions. It is thus much more a tactic to insure againstconsumption shortfalls during the non-growing (winter)season (1990, 140).Binford does agree that storage is mainly (but not absolutely) a feature of logisticstrategies (1990, 133, 144-146). These strategies, often characteristic for higherlatitudes, cope with the temporal incongruity and increased amount of time spentsearching for resources. Storage in this respect can be advantageous since it mightprevent high-risk residential moves in the lean season. Storage can thus be seenas indicative of a decreased residential mobility and an increased investment incertain locations and facilities.Implementation: storage in the Late Mesolithic LRA?There is no positive evidence for storage at Late Mesolithic sites in the LRA. Thismay relate to the problems surrounding storage in a temperate climate, but isalso importantly a taphonomic problem; cached organic resources will not havebeen preserved. Pits or other storage structures might not have been preserved orrecognized as such either. Furthermore, despite its tough qualities, one of the mostsuitable staple foods, hazelnut (Corylus avellana), has only been found in limitedquantities. If their high caloric value formed a substantial contribution to LateMesolithic subsistence, then it is remarkable that, in view of the storage capacityneeded for their use and the amount of waste that might have been produced(see Cappers/Ytsma 2002/2003), no substantial evidence for storage facilitieshave been found in the Late Mesolithic over large parts of Northern Europe.Only a few secondary indications exist for storage. On the southern coversandburnt hazelnut shells are sporadically found, sometimes in concentrations (seeHuyge/Vermeersch 1982). The site of Havelte H1 yielded several small ellipticaland circular features which on the basis of their differing fill were interpreted aspossible storage facilities (Price et al. 1974, 23). Pits were found at Marinberg,Hoge Vaart-A27 and Bergumermeer-S64B and it is possible that the function ofhearthpits, as found at many sites in the north or on river dunes, includes thepreparation of food, such as the roasting of hazelnuts. The stone structures ofLige-Place St.-Lambert-SDT could have served as storage platforms (see Cribb1991), although an interpretation as facilities for smoking fish is more likely (seeMarchand et al. 2007). The wetland sites of De Bruin and Polderweg also yieldedpits and postholes that might point to (storage) facilities. Botanical remains suchas hazelnuts, acorns (Quercus) and apples (Malus sp.) were present there as well.No features or finds, however, yielded positive evidence for storage. Based on theconsiderations above it is most likely that evidence for storage can be found inlocations where increased duration of occupation is to be expected.

5.6.4.4 Boats and canoes

Another element of investment is less obvious, but may involve those aspectsof technology that require a distinct investment in time, energy and resources.Of particular importance in this respect is the example of boats or canoes. Theimportance of wetlands and aquatic resources for a logistical type of mobility andeven socio-economic complexity is recognized by Ames (2002). Elaborating on

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persistent traditions

Binfords (1990) arguments, Ames focuses on the consequences of the development

of aquatic technology, more specifically on the impact of boats and transporttechnology (Ames 2002, 20). Using ethnographic examples of hide and logboats(canoes), three important aspects are discussed. The first involves the increaseddistance that might be covered by boats. Based on weather circumstances, location(sea, river, lake), current and crew, accounts on average distance per hour diverge,but range between c. 3 and 7 km/h. The daily distance covered might amountto as much as 40 or even 90 miles (Ames 2002, 30). Another important aspectinvolves transport capacity, both of people and freight. Large canoes, exceeding10 m in length, might carry 10-15 people or up to 5 tons of cargo (Ames 2002,29). Although the Late Mesolithic canoes found in the LRA are much smaller (c. 5m; see Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 2007), this does indicate the increased capacityin moving goods compared to pedestrian transport. This not only impacts onweight, but also on bulk. Sizeable goods, such as large quantities of nuts, orcomplete carcasses, might be transported to the residential base (see also Hodder/Orton 1976, fig. 5.13). This also affects the amount of preparation and processingthat needs to take place in the field, rather favouring processing activities at theresidential site or destination (ibid., 39). Instead of distance to homebase, thecrucial decision in transport might have become the distance to the boat. Another,more typical, example involves the use of canoes in harvesting waterplants. Ames(2002, 29) describes the way in which North American Chinookan women usedcanoes as floating baskets to harvest corms of Sagittaria latifolia (broadleafarrowhead).70 Spearing and netting of fish might also have involved canoes (seeLouwe Kooijmans 2005c, 183; Louwe Kooijmans et al. 2005, plate 12).A further aspect mentioned by Ames involves the implications of having andusing boats. Canoes (and paddles) require a considerable initial investment aswell as a high ongoing one (they might need to be wetted down (on sunny days),covered and repaired). This is costly with respect to time and energetic investment.Using and maintaining canoes is therefore most worthwhile in mobility systemsthat are fairly stable and rely on fixed points of consistent duration in the yearlycycle. Canoes therefore enlarge the (logistical) foraging radius and transportcapacity of hunter-gatherers. This influences their net nutritional gain, and fromthis perspective also the duration of occupation as well as group size. Furthermoreboats, while requiring investment and maintenance, enable hunter-gatherers toreach inaccessible or remote places and facilitate intergroup contact. This of coursehas advantages for marriage networks, trade and exchange and specialization(Ames 2002, 44).It might thus be concluded that the presence of boats or canoes most likelyindicates a relatively stable settlement system, within a collector type mobilitysystem (goods are brought to consumers), as well as investment in place, facilitiesand technology.Implementation: canoes in the Late Mesolithic LRAThe actual evidence for Late Mesolithic canoes is limited. Apart from the rathersmall early Mesolithic vessel found at Pesse, most Late Mesolithic evidence in theLRA is provided by one complete canoe from Hardinxveld-De Bruin as well asseveral fragments. Furthermore there are paddles from Hardinxveld-Polderweg andHoge Vaart-A27. Later evidence includes canoe fragments from Bergschenhoek,the Hazendonk and Wieringermeer, as well as paddle blades from Swifterbant,

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the Hazendonk and Hekelingen (see Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart 2007). Most of

the canoes and some paddle blades show distinct affinities with Scandinavian andwestern European examples (ibid.).The presence of canoes in the LRA seems to be linked to sites that are locatedin extensive wetland settings such as those of the Dutch delta. Riverine and coastaltransport might also have taken place. Exclusive exploitation of smaller bodies ofwater such as fens or streams might not have been profitable, keeping in mind thecosts of making and maintaining these vessels. From this it follows that canoes,to a certain extent, form an indication for the stability in site location choice andthe investment in these places and their facilities (the erratic character of many ofthe coversand sites do not seem to accord with this). This indicates that they alsoform a good secondary indication for the trophic richness of the environment. Assuch, they better fit collector-type mobility strategies.Louwe Kooijmans and Verhart (2007) reflect on the possible use of thesevessels for long distance transport of flint and other raw materials (the site ofPolderweg for example yielded a precore of Rijckholt flint weighing 4 kg andother large stones), but they wonder whether the light canoes and slender paddleblades of Hardinxveld were suitable for long distance travel. Nevertheless, whilethe 150 km journey to the Rijckholt source location might not have been anoption, these vessels were capable of navigating the extents of the widening delta,reaching both coastal areas as well as the margin of the coversand and enablingriverine travel. This, in combination with the advantages in food procurementand personal mobility, argues in favour of perceiving canoes both as conductorsfor contact and exchange and accelerators for increased investment and stability.Because of their range and capacity they might increasingly tether mobility tofixed locations from which to exploit wetlands. Although the archaeological signalis limited, the effects of aquatic transport on communities compared to largelypedestrian hunter-gatherers should not be underestimated.

5.6.5 Toolkit and technology

Aspects of technological choice, toolkit composition and raw material use havebeen extensively discussed above. This yielded several important considerationswith respect to mobility, that may be interpreted in relation to ethnographicmodels and systems of mobility as well.

5.6.5.1 Technological choices

Concerning technology a distinction was made between emphases in curatedtechnologies as opposed to more expedient technologies. The increased use-life andreliability of the former type (Andrefsky 2005; Kelly 1992; Ugan et al. 2003) wasmainly associated with (retouched) blade technology and formal tool productionof for example trapezes and artefacts such as Montbani blades. This could becorrelated to the character of the toolkit and the demands placed on the reliabilityof hunting equipment, especially on the southern coversand, forming an indicationfor increased mobility. The main contrasts to this system are again provided bythe wetland locations of Polderweg and De Bruin. Curated technology and formalartefacts only formed a minimal contribution to the lithic assemblages of thesesites, while expedient technology was favoured most. This could tentatively becoupled with a reduced residential mobility (see section 5.5.3.3).

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Additionally, evidence for other technological investments was documented

in the wetlands. Arguably this is primarily a taphonomic pattern, since thearchaeological record on the coversand is biased towards lithics and will originallyalso have included an important organic component (of which some evidenceremains; e.g. Arts 1994). The available wetland evidence includes investment inbone, antler and wooden artefacts such as axes, chisels, awls, hammers, sleeves,points and needles, hafts, shafts, bows, boards, spears, paddle blades, and canoes(see above) as well as rope and fish weirs (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2003; LouweKooijmans et al. 2001c; Out 2009). The technology required to produce thesematerials is costly in terms of time and energetic investment. It is difficult toquantify and correlate this, however, it appears that many of the artefacts mentionedabove require time, investment and application that is not characteristic of thesettlement structure and suggested mobility pattern for the upland coversand area.Moreover, several artefacts (spears, paddle blades, canoes, fish weirs) are typicalfor a wetland environment. Fish weirs furthermore indicate the existence ofpassive hunting tactics, involving investment in use and maintenance of untended(trapping) facilities. Other tools such as axes, hammers and chisels also pointto activities directed at woodworking, which involve investment in place and adeveloped degree of environmental structuring and even management. It seemshard to imagine that this complete set of facilities and tools was also common tothe base camp inventory of residentially more mobile groups on the coversand,where the available (lithic) evidence mainly stresses investment in (terrestrial)hunting equipment.71

5.6.5.2 Typology and resource procurement strategies

From a typological perspective one of the most distinct characteristics is thecontribution of points to the assemblages of sites on the southern and northerncoversand. A distinct difference of degree could be documented with respectto other sites. The degree of homogeneity documented for the larger set ofassemblages on the southern coversand also indicates that over time the generictypes of functions these sites had and thus the possible combinations of artefactsets were more limited (see Binford 1980, 12).Resource procurement theoryAccording to Binford (1990) the changing variability in plant communities as onemoves farther from the equatorial zone induces an increasing focus on animalsin order to provide for the food needs of human communities. Furthermore, thepresence of foods requiring a minimal search time decreases in a graded fashion. Inareas without abundant aquatic resources this means an increased dependence onterrestrial animals, for which the search time and attendant mobility costs increasegradually with latitude (Binford 1990, 133-135). Despite richer locations such asthe ecotones formed by peat fens (meres) and the margins of small stream valleys,no elaborate wetland resources are available on the coversand uplands, such as theCampine region. This substantiates the importance of terrestrial resources in theseareas and a more homogeneous composition of the range of resources available(see also Brouwer-Burg 2012).

the late mesolithic diversity in uniformity?

fauna in the form of larger ungulates such as red deer (Cervus elaphus), roe deer(Capreolus capreolus), aurochs (Bos primigenius), and wild boar (Sus scrofa).72 Auseful concept in this respect is predation mode. In general there is a distinctionbetween pursuit modes in which (a group of ) specific prey items is hunted andother species are ignored, and search modes in which any acceptable prey item istargeted in an opportunistic manner (see Chatters 1987, 350). The latter strategyis similar to Binfords encounter strategy which is most typical for foragers(1980, 5). A more general distinction that can be made is between active andpassive hunting strategies. The former refers to both forms of predation modementioned above, while passive strategies involve a time delay and placement of(costly) facilities such as nets, fish weirs and traps.Shott (1990, cited in Kelly 1992, 55) argues that groups with a higherresidential mobility, such as foragers, would produce assemblages with a morehomogeneous spectrum (strong positive correlation). This limits site variabilityand enables a classification of these locations as base camps with, in this case, adistinct hunting character. This raises the question what this means for issuessuch as mobility and investment.Implementation: evidence for patterning?Assuming that the composition of the mentioned assemblages is indeed equivalentto the relative importance of certain activities within the overall spectrum, thenthe consistent contribution of points (and artefacts such as Montbani blades) canonly reflect the importance of terrestrial hunting for locations on the (southern)coversand (see Chatters 1987, 342). This is supported by the specific role ofGQW in the fabrication of points and Montbani blades at sites on the southerncoversand (see section 5.5.5.3). This contrasts with the broader, more general andexpedient character of the assemblage spectrum at other places, most notably atboth Hardinxveld sites where the toolkit is distinctly characterised by retouchedflakes.The absence of informative faunal data for sites on the upland coversandprevents an adequate assessment of prey spectrum and predation mode being made.General inferences as to the most likely strategy, based on the site characteristicsanalysed above, may, however, be drawn. There is no evidence suggesting that onlyone or several species were hunted. This argues in favour of a more opportunisticsearch mode of predation. Supposing that comparable environmental conditionsexisted on the coversand a similar strategy might be expected for different locations,which would be in line with the level of homogeneity in site structure and artefactassemblage. In view of the indicated degree of residential mobility, it is unlikelythat passive predation techniques formed an essential element of the subsistencestrategy on the (southern) coversand. In the case of frequent residential movesand absence of elaborate aquatic resources, investment in the fabrication, useand maintenance of facilities and implements is a less viable option. From this itfollows that the predation strategy most in line with the structural character of thesites and their assemblages within the environmental context, would be an activesearch or encounter strategy, predominantly focusing on the above-mentionedungulates.

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5.6.5.3 Raw material use

Within larger areas individual but associated bands use the available resourceswithin the limits of their own territories, which may overlap (Kim 2006). The useof specific exotic raw materials has regularly provided useful clues for both therange of these groups as well as the composition and extent of larger territories(see Lovis et al. 2006; Pasda 2006; Randolph Daniel Jr. 2001; Rensink 2005;Whallon 2006; Yven 2005; Zvelebil 2006). The range and character of mobilityand territoriality is often interpreted, not only from an economic perspective, butalso as a social safety net (Whallon 2006, 260; see also Zvelebil 2006). This maybe for biological reproduction or in case of resource shortage. Exotic materialssuch as Wommersom quartzite, phtanite, or, with the arrival of farming, Breitkeile,might serve as currency within and between these systems (see Dennell 1985;Mauss 1950; Verhart 2000; 2012). With respect to raw material, implications formobility are evident, both from the perspective of embedded procurement (Binford1983(1979)) or specific expeditions for resources (Gould/Saggers 1985).Implementation: different systemsThere is a distinct difference between the character of the mobile procurementstrategy underlying the assemblages on the southern coversand and the logisticstrategy at the wetland sites of Polderweg and De Bruin. Raw material procurementon the southern coversand involved an important exotic component, in the formof GQW, which implied a considerable and consistent intrinsic mobility, next tothe practice of exchange. This contrasted with other sites where the contribution ofexotic raw material was limited as well. It distinctly contrasted with the wetlandlocations of Polderweg and De Bruin, which yielded clear evidence for logisticalmobility in that raw material from various sources was continually transported tothese locations.Apart from differences in the degree of residential mobility this may also beassociated with differences in territoriality. As is evidenced by the dispersal and useof Wommersom quartzite and its singular outcrop, the main area of distributionis often interpreted as belonging to a single dialectic tribe, within which theterritories of bands and macrobands might be found (e.g. Gendel 1984; Verhart/Arts 2005). Other non-related indications for the existence of such areas are forexample formed by the distribution of characteristic point types such as feuilles degui, or traits such as lateralization of arrowheads (see Lhr 1994).While exotic materials have also been found at Polderweg and De Bruin, oreven, in the case of GQW, at Hoge Vaart, their contribution to the assemblage issmall compared to the southern coversand and especially the Campine area. Thisinvolves the increased distance to the source, but might additionally be explainedby differences in mobility. This relates to the natural environment and interwovenwith this, differences in demands of the existing social network, maintained bylong(er) distance mobility and exchange. In the case of the trophically richwetland environment of the Dutch delta, the specific distribution of resourcesenabled a more extended stay, probably with a lower degree of risk. This enabledthe development of a different (logistical) system of mobility, which providedfor needs not entirely comparable to those of hunter-gatherers elsewhere. Boththe necessity and the possibility to participate in a more mobile system such asthe one characterised by the distribution of GQW might not have existed. This

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hypothesis might be substantiated by (ethnographic) evidence existing for the

general decrease in territorial size in wetland environments as a result of thisdecreasing mobility (see Ames 1991, 939; Nicholas 1998a, 728; Nicholas 2007a,48; Nicholas 2007b, 246, 250; Zvelebil 2003b, 14). These smaller territoriesand the social changes involved with them may lead to increased territorialityand definition of boundaries (e.g. Kelly 1992, 58; 1995, 308-311; Price/Brown1985, 11). There are thus broad correlations between the environment, mobilitystrategies, raw material procurement and territorial size. It is likely that along theforager-collector continuum there was a general decrease in annual territorial size,related to an increase in logistical mobility and a different participation in rawmaterial networks.

5.6.6 Interpreting mobility and settlement systems

Little is known about the ecological character of the coversand environmentin relation to the distribution of its resources, although there is evidently aconsiderable difference of degree between areas such as the northern or southerncoversand landscape, the vast wetland area of the Dutch delta and, to a lesserextent, the floodplains of medium to large rivers. The structural aspects andlithic assemblages of sites on the southern coversand area argue in favour of theimportance of terrestrial hunting. There is no evidence for any distinct structuralinvestment, which mainly points to short-term stays. However, while Binford(1983(1979); 2001) makes an initial distinction between terrestrial and aquatichunters, based on a general supraregional analysis, the actual situation need nothave been that simple. Seasonally based combinations of strategies were possibleas well, involving both terrestrial and aquatic components. This will be furtherdiscussed below.Because of the potentially considerable differences between the environmentsavailable to hunter-gatherers we should suspect the existence of regionally specificsettlement systems and mobility rounds, the characters of which will have differedunder influence of the relative importance of aquatic and terrestrial resources. Theband of hunter-gatherers occupying Polderweg might have been quite differentfrom the hunter-gatherers that camped at Merselo.The considerations above suffer from insufficient (organic) data and lack ofspatio-temporal control. Clearly there is need for further research, yet the firmrooting of hunter-gatherer settlement systems in their natural environmentstrongly implies that differences in these environments will lead to differences inthe settlement system. Based on this assumption a brief characterization of largertrends in Late Mesolithic mobility in the LRA might be given. This characterizationcan only be of a preliminary nature and it should be considered that the wetlandperspective centres on the information produced by the Hardinxveld sites.

expansion of diet breadth to include aquatic resources and the development of

technology for their exploitation as important factors for reducing residentialmobility. According to him this is the result of the increasing costs in procuringterrestrial resources in higher latitude environments. While the temperate Atlanticsetting of the Late Mesolithic in Northwestern Europe might not have given riseto an irrevocable aquatic shift in diet, full-time terrestrial hunter-gatherers willhave been rare (see Binford 1990, 137; see also Binford 2001, table 5.1 and 212222). Incorporation of aquatic resources seems to have been an often favouredaddition to the diet (Binford 2001, 210). Binford (1990, 147) argues that theaccess windows for penetration of the aquatic biome are less ubiquitous andmore reliable than those of terrestrial resources. Therefore strategic site locations,in combination with the productive capacity of aquatic species, led to a tetheredsystem of mobility, corresponding with a high degree of repetition. This in turnmight have led to an increase in investment, which in fact is more or less a reversalof the relationship between hunting and portability of primary housing statedabove. Eventually the reliance on aquatic resources provides opportunities formany other changes in society, as for example permanence in settlement andincreased group size (e.g. Binford 2001; Plsson 1988; 1991).The importance of aquatic environmentsThe importance of aquatic resources in creating opportunities for investment andspatial structuring, based on the increased static and reliable aspects of wetlandresources, is evident. There are, however, differences in the definition of wetlandor aquatic resources. Binford (1990), for example focuses on aquatic hunting andfishing, Kelly (1995) distinguishes between fishing and sea mammal hunting,while Ames (2002) argues water should be the main determining principle forfood and resource procurement as well as transport. It is also possible to argue infavour of an even broader definition, extending primary wetland resources, suchas fish and aquatic plants, to include for example otters (Lutra lutra) and beavers(Castor fiber), as well as including secondary resources. The latter involve plantand animal species which are typically attracted to wetlands and wetland marginsand the biodiversity existing there. This for example includes several species ofmammals, such as deer or wild boar, specific plant communities favouring wetlandmargins, bank or levee settings (see Bakels 1978) and, importantly, various speciesof (migratory) aquatic birds. Rather than the presence of typical wetland speciesit is the constellation of aquatic and terrestrial resources converging in these areasthat made them attractive to prehistoric hunter-gatherers. As argued by Binford(1980; 1990; 2001) the incorporation of aquatic resources enables communitiesto become more sedentary and group size to increase. Apart from seasonalityevidence, indications for a lower residential mobility have been provided by thesite use and structuring and lithic characteristics of distinct wetland locationssuch as both Hardinxveld sites. Within such settings where resource distributionis diverse and heterogeneous a collector-type system of logistical mobility is mostplausible.Upland terrestrial characteristics and mobilityAlthough a whole range of intermediate environmental settings will have beenpresent in the LRA, the aquatic biome and the distribution of resources in itcontrasts most with what may be expected from the upland coversand landscape.

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Characterised by a largely closed canopy forest, areas of diversification would

mainly be formed by streams, lakes or peat fens (see section 5.3.2). Around these,natural diversity may have increased, but it may be argued that terrestrial resourcesand fauna formed an important component of the diet (see also Binford 2001,Chapter 6). Resources on the whole were probably less diverse in comparison towetland locations and more homogeneously distributed at these locations. Thiswould have required increased mobility and more residential moves (see Binford1980; 1982), which fits the characteristics of site use and material assemblagesin these environments. The smaller extent of the areas where resources diversifywould become depleted much quicker in comparison with (the delta or largeriver valley) wetland environments, necessitating more frequent residential movesbetween such locations. Binford (1980, 5, 10) has argued that base camps aremoved when resources get depleted. Depending on the extents of the availableresource patches, the number and distance of residential moves and the size ofthe groups involved might differ (see also Kelly 1995). Furthermore the focuson terrestrial fauna species such as red deer, roe dee and aurochs involves dealingwith the dispersed and unpredictable nature of the distribution of these types ofanimals, indeed necessitating frequent moves and a higher mobility (Cromb etal. 2011b, 467). In this sense one could envisage the coversand areas as relativelyhomogeneous with resource clustering and diversification in specific areas thatformed the most favoured locations for settlement.

5.6.6.2 Diversity and combined systems

While the contrasts between both settings are distinct it is not always useful tointerpret them as a context for mutually exclusive types of hunter-gatherer mobilityand resource procurement. Rather, instead of distinguishing between terrestrialand aquatic hunter-gatherers (sensu Binford 1990), or assuming an evolutionaryor logical development from one to the other, it might be more profitable toqualitatively aim at establishing the contribution of a wet aspect and aquaticresources in Late Mesolithic settlement systems.Based on the evidence available, a description of the precise mobility regimesand settlement systems for the Late Mesolithic is not possible. However, based onthe arguments advanced, an approximation of the diverse strategies existing andhow these may have been combined is possible.Implementation: diverging strategiesThere are distinct differences between sites that might be hypothetically interpretedin terms of past settlement systems. As stated earlier, there is a considerabledifference between sites in the southern coversand landscape and sites in wetlandsettings. The latter were probably inhabited for more extensive periods duringthe year, involving investment and structuring, and using a broad spectrumof, especially aquatic, resources. The former yielded evidence for repeated, butlimited occupation with a focus on terrestrial hunting. While both systems are notnecessarily exclusive it is evident that their relative importance to the yearly cyclelargely structures the mobility of a group in a given area. Especially occupationof sites in extensive wetland settings often involves a certain degree of stability,arguing in favour of collector type strategies. This contrasts with the supposedlyhigher residential mobility of sites in the southern coversand landscape.

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There are however also indications for a complementary function of sites

within a settlement system with different regional and ecological components.Evidence for such a combination may be found in the similarities between some ofthe sites on the southern coversand and the technological (contribution of blades),typological (contribution of retouched flakes and blades) and raw material (e.g.Wommersom quartzite) characteristics of the three southern river valley locationsnear Lige. Although these may not themselves have been part of a settlementsystem incorporating the southern coversand area, they do perhaps represent aseasonal component that is typical for larger river valleys and floodplains, in thiscase the Meuse. Especially the latter element (GQW) might indicate comparablegroups, or that members of the same wider community occupied sites in bothsettings.The contrast between the investment and structuring characteristic for the rivervalley sites and its absence on the upland, may relate to resource procurement.Apart from the availability of stone, the river valley sites yield evidence forthe exploitation of various resources in the rich floodplain settings, includingaquatic resources such as fish. These especially might have formed an importantcontribution to the diet in winter (Binford 1990). This is potentially supported bythe evidence for seasonality at the wetland site of Polderweg (see Louwe Kooijmans2003), although the seasonality of fish in both environments need not have beenthe same.73Another example is formed by the Hardinxveld sites. Especially the seasonalityevidence available for occupation at Polderweg during several months in the winterperiod (see Louwe Kooijmans 2003; Appendix I), indicates that these wetlandsites formed stable longer-term base camps.74 These may have been part of asystem in which wetland margin sites played a complementary (summer?) role.The existence of such sites is suggested by locations in the wetland margin such asMaaspoort (see Louwe Kooijmans 2001a). The presence of tools such as axes andworked pieces made of auroch bone and the relative absence of this species in theunworked bone assemblage as documented at Polderweg supports the idea of nonlocal hunting or procurement (Louwe Kooijmans et al. 2001b).A combined system?The implications of the existence of diverse and potentially complementarystrategies points to the possibility of combined mobility strategies, perhapsincluding different regions and a more or less distinct aquatic component. Suchas system would be attuned to the spatio-temporal consistency and predictabilityof the environment. In other words when risk and cost of moving are high, itis likely that hunter-gatherers will opt to remain longer at locations with a morepredictable level of resources and use logistical means to obtain additional foodor resources (see Binford 1990, 132; Kelly 1992, 47). Binford (1990, 131-132)also relates the increased use of aquatic resources to the effective temperatureand the patchiness and productivity of resources. From this expectation it followsthat: aquatic resources are the target of exploitation for winter stores. Wetlandsand to a lesser extent floodplains could thus have been specifically used as bufferenvironments in the lean seasons.Such a difference in sustainability of environments may also have hadrepercussions for group size. According to Kelly (1992, 47) hunter-gatherer socialunits can have an extremely fluid composition. Groups may split in order to relieve

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social tension often caused by subsistence stress. This is largely dependent on thedegree to which everyones subsistence is dependent on the same resource.Implementation: potential complementary systemsAs argued earlier the specific taphonomic characteristics of the studied sitespreclude an in depth analysis of (regional) procurement strategies and seasonality.The available information is limited.While for the Polderweg site the use of a winter base camp during phase 1 isconfirmed (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2003), evidence for a similar use of coversandand river valley sites is very limited. It has been argued that the coversand (peatfen) area was used seasonally (e.g. Cromb et al. 2011b, 468; see also Vermeersch(1989), but there is little archaeological evidence for this as most organic seasonalindicators are not preserved. Finds of hazelnut at for example Weelde-Paardsdrankor Jardinga may point to a presence in autumn, but the limited numbers and thefact that hazelnuts are suitable for storage (see Cappers/Ytsma 2002/2003) preventa clear seasonal indication. At the river valley site of Lige-Place St.-Lambert(sector SDT and DDD), there are, however, minor indications for a predominantpresence in deep winter and early spring, based on a study of the eruption of teethin wild boar and the characteristics of the antler fragments found (see LpezBayn 1994, 133). Clearly a strong and consistent seasonal signature, as couldbe established for the Hardinxveld sites, indicates a strong association, betweenplace, time and activity. If the weaker information at Lige is interpreted alongthe same lines, this might form an indication for a strategy whereby wetland orfloodplain environments were used specifically in winter.Arguably the stable character of wetland resources would also have allowedfor a larger group size. In this respect Louwe Kooijmans (2003, 619) argued thatseveral households or a microband might have inhabited Polderweg. Kelly (1992;1995) further indicates that regular, non-aggregated, groups of hunter-gathererscomprise c. 25 individuals. Aggregation might occur in order to maximize theexploitation of aggregated resources, such as for example fish. Predictabilityalso forms an important factor (see Kelly 1995, 214-216). Apart from fish andmigratory species of birds one could also envisage seasonal migration of speciessuch as red deer in this respect (see also Brouwer 2011; 2013; Jochim 1976).In case a combined system of mobility existed, it is thus likely that groupsize was larger in the wetland or wetland margin settings, compared to drylandlocations. Smaller groups and more frequent, but short visits would be in line withthe erratic and homogeneous patterning of Late Mesolithic sites in the southernand perhaps northern coversand area. The artefactual similarities between theriver valley sites and the upland coversand locations in the south and the waythese differ from wetland sites such as Polderweg and De Bruin, may, amongstothers, relate to a difference of degree in intensity or duration of wetland orfloodplain occupation. In the latter case, of the Hardinxveld wetland sites, it isevident that the occupation lasted at least several months and may have beencombined with a wetland margin setting such as that of Maaspoort where seasonaloccupation is plausible as well. This, in combination with evidence for investmentin aquatic technology (canoes, paddles, fish weirs etc.), argues in favour of a strongemphasis in wetland occupation and aquatic orientation of these communities.When hypothesizing a similar model involving sites in the (southern) coversandlandscape and (Meuse) river valley sites the current evidence points to a more

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distinct terrestrial component, at least for a significant part of the year whencommunities moved between sites in the coversand landscape, and a more limitedfloodplain aquatic orientation during sojourns in river valleys.Modeling mobilityThe available evidence for the studied sites only allows for a hypothetical modelingof both of the situations sketched above. These hypothetical systems have beendepicted in fig. 5.43.The upper section demonstrates the potential relationship of two mobilitycycles (A-H and I-Q). It consist of a residentially organized system with frequentmoves between habitation or exploitation areas and fewer, mainly logisticallyorganized stays in the river valley. These may have been especially attractive in theleaner winter season and allowed for greater aggregation. Note the larger logisticalrange in the river valley as opposed to the coversand area.The lower section depicts a logistical system, based on the Hardinxveld sites,in combination with a wetland margin location (as the aforementioned Maaspoortsite). Both sites were inhabited seasonally during several months. Exploitation ofthe environment was distinctly logistical and focused on the central sites. Othersite types such as fieldcamps and caches are more dominant features of this typeof settlement system, although distinct evidence for these types of sites has so farnot been documented for the Late Mesolithic.75 The wetland margin sites enableda continued exploitation of the wetland area as well as the upland hinterland. Apotential combination existed with a residentially mobile system (X). This couldbe envisaged when part of the group would split and lead a more mobile existence,for instance focusing on terrestrial hunting, in the summer months.76Of course both systems remain simplified models and reality, including diverserelationships of exchange and interaction, is infinitely more complex. Theydemonstrate the existence of two different and potentially complementary systemsof habitation that may be substantiated by the character of the sites documented,especially when contrasting sites on the coversand with distinct wetland locationssuch as those of Hardinxveld.

5.6.6.3 Diverse systems of mobility: other approaches

It can be concluded that despite the deficiencies in the data available there areclear indications for diversity in the uniformity of the Late Mesolithic. Thecharacteristics of some of the landscape and ecological settings defined argue infavour of different mobility strategies and economic emphases, and, in turn, ofdiversity within Late Mesolithic groups. These are most distinctive between sitesin the coversand landscape (especially those on the southern coversand such asthe Campine region) and typical wetland locations such as the Hardinxveld sites.These conclusions are supported by the scaled approach presented in the analysis.The lithic comparison in particular provides a comparative perspective that is onlyinfluenced by site formative processes to a limited extent.The emphasis in this study of Late Mesolithic sites was placed on diversestructural and artefactual aspects of (mainly) excavated sites. A number of othertypes of studies have partially supported the perspective offered. These will nowbe briefly discussed

potential site locations/

daily foraging radius

A-H mobility group 1

I-Q mobility group 2

March-Novemberwetland margin

November-Marchwetland

X potential integrationwetland/(margin) systemwith upland component

March-November

November-March

Isotopic perspectivesResearch into the isotopic signatures of bones of Mesolithic hunter-gatherers inthe upland area of the Meuse Basin clearly indicate the predominance of terrestrialresources (Bocherens et al. 2007) in comparison with for example hunter-gatherersin coastal and wetland settings, including those at the Hardinxveld sites (Richardset al. 2003a,b,c; Richards/Schulting 2006a,b ; Smits/Louwe Kooijmans 2006; Smitset al. 2010).77 Since this reflects on the emphases in diets it largely confirmsthe distinctions made earlier, especially if the upland Meuse Basin area and thecoversand areas may be deemed similar in terrestrial nature. While it is not possibleto demonstrate that the differences recorded for the sites analysed above in factrelate to different Late Mesolithic groups with different subsistence strategies onthe basis of the data available, it is likely that there was a considerable degree ofvariation, which would also be reflected in isotopic signatures as supported by thestudies mentioned above. On a gradual scale there probably were groups moreoriented towards the exploitation of wetlands and groups with a larger terrestrialcomponent.248

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Fig. 5.43 Hypothetical model

A diachronic perspectiveRecently Cromb et al. (2011b) have also discussed aspects of hunter-gathererdiversity based on a study of Final Palaeolithic to Final Mesolithic land-use innorthwest Belgium from a diachronic perspective. They indicate the existence ofa sequence of human responses to environmental change during the PleistoceneHolocene transition. Over time regional site densities and mobility tended todecrease, while site size increased and hunter-gatherers in the later Mesolithictended to favour wetter locations along rivers in relation to the increasing watertable as a result of the inundation of the North Sea (ibid. 454, 468-469). Theyalso argue that there is evidence for frequent reoccupation of locations andrapid mobility in the earlier Mesolithic and indications for an increased spatialstructuring and more rigid organization of residential sites in the Middle and LateMesolithic (Cromb et al. 2011b, 454, 469; see also Amkreutz 2009).As noted by Cromb et al. (ibid.) there appears to be a contrast between thediachronic land use trajectories in Sandy Flanders and the southern Netherlands,whereas Verhart (2008) notes a contrasting development and potential decrease incomplexity and larger sites over time. One could question whether these regionaldifference arise from different choices made by different bands of hunter-gatherers,or the same group executing different mobility strategies in different landscapes.Although interesting new trends are outlined, the nature of the researchconducted is of a large chronological and general scale and mainly based on surfacesurvey sites. Where Cromb et al. (2011b, 467) detect a general trend towardsdecreasing mobility over a long time span and an increase in prolonged residentialpositioning, this study demonstrates and adds that reality is even more complexand that even within the Late Mesolithic there is much variability to be accountedfor. Different groups of hunter-gatherers made variable and flexible use of adiverse set of environments and a number of co-existing or even complementarymobility systems may have been in use at the same time. The study by Crombet al. (2011b) does, however, support the main argument presented in this study,that the focus on aquatic resources and a wetland setting distinctly influences siteuse and mobility patterns.A modeled land-use perspectiveA complementary point of view, along the lines of earlier studies (e.g. Jochim 1976),was provided in a recent study focusing on modeling the economic potential andenvironmental characteristics of different environments in the central river valleyarea (roughly the delta area, eastern river valley area and adjacent Pleistoceneuplands) in the Netherlands with Mesolithic sites dating to the Early, Middleand Late Mesolithic (Brouwer 2011; Brouwer-Burg 2012). The aim of the studywas to detect whether the changing environment of the lower Rhine river valleywhich in 4000 years (between 10.000 and 6000 cal BC) shifted from polar desert[sic] to closed Atlantic forest with a deltaic environment also linked to changesin human behavior (Brouwer-Burg 2012, 25). A multi-criterion decision-basedmodel was devised for three case-study areas and landscape reconstructions weremade for 500 and 1000 year intervals (Brouwer-Burg 2012, 25; Brouwer 2013).This was combined with decision-making objectives and criteria that influencedhow people mapped themselves onto landscapes in view of resource acquisitionstrategies and settlement placement practices (ibid.; Binford 1980).

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Important behavioural rules that were defined included securing sufficient

subsistence and raw material resources, while minimizing risk (see also Kelly1995). What was deemed the most important criterion for site location choiceinvolved finding reasonably dry locations with ample shelter (Brouwer-Burg2012, 26). The subsequent modelling that took place focused on a number ofadaptive foraging and collecting strategies with respect to large game, non-specificor wetland resources. These were subsequently combined with the modelledlandscape for 25 x 25 km surface units and analysed for suitability, which wasthen compared to the archaeological evidence available (ibid., 27).The model confirmed the notion also mentioned here and in ethnography(see Binford 1990) that distinct wetland habitats were best exploited through acollector-type strategy. According to Brouwer-Burg (2012, 27) this accords wellwith the archaeological evidence from the Hardinxveld-Giessendam sites (see alsoAmkreutz 2009 for similar conclusions).The study indicated that an inverse relationship exists between the patchinessof an area and the degree of organizational flexibility of hunter-gatherers in termsof procurement and mobility strategies (Brouwer-Burg 2012, 27). Highly patchyand heterogeneous habitats, such as wetlands, allowed only a small amountof organizational flexibility, were best exploited through collector strategies,characterised by decreased residential mobility and increased storage. Satellite-typeconfigurations of camps should be expected with multi-family bases anchoringthe settlement system. Conversely, areas with low patchiness and homogeneouslydistributed resources allowed hunter-gatherers far more leeway and enabled themto switch back and forth between collecting or foraging strategies. This may haveinvolved fluid group membership and aggregation and fissioning occurring onan ad hoc basis. Settlement patterns are expected to be less neat than in wetlandcontexts (ibid., 28).Different lines of evidenceThe studies mentioned above differ in approach and data. To compare themdirectly would neglect the pitfalls existing in the analyses themselves (e.g. Bickle/Hofmann 2007; Milner et al. 2006) and the limited detail provided by longterm perspectives and modelled landscapes. In the last study the discussion onthe patchiness of landscapes for instance (see also Kelly 1995) should focus oncontemporaneous areas and generates questions about what patchiness means.It is likely that the distribution, type and seasonality of resources coalesce intointeresting regional combinations with characterizations that may either behomogenous, heterogenous, or both at the same time. Despite these shortcomingsthey fit the general approach adopted above with respect to the distinction betweenwetland and upland type of mobility and settlement system. In view of this, futureresearch would benefit from a more close combination between these differentsources of information in order to be able to present a complementary and moreholistic idea of past behaviour.

5.6.6.4 Conclusions on mobility and settlement system

The approach of this study, comparing different scales of evidence for LateMesolithic sites in the LRA, with respect to settlement location choice, sitestructure and lithic assemblage composition, clearly points to diversity in theway these hunter-gatherers used the landscape. Although not all sites yielded

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qualitative information, it was possible to elucidate one general distinction.

This distinction is based on the contrasts existing between sites situated on thesouthern coversand, mainly in the Campine area (as well as a number of sites onthe northern coversand) and those in true wetlands, most notably, in this case, bothHardinxveld sites in the western part of the Dutch delta. Differences with respect tosite location choice, site structure and investment in facilities were complementedby differences in the characteristics of the lithic toolkit. These pointed to a moreexpedient technology and structured site use and investment at wetland sites anda more curated technology and short-term, less structured behaviour at the uplandcoversand sites. At the latter sites the fabrication of lithic hunting equipment(points) was also distinct. Furthermore the role of the Wommersom quartzite andits distribution pattern may be interpreted in relation to its qualities for makingreliable components within a (curated) tookit. Taken together these differentstrands of evidence support the existence of different mobility and settlementsystems. For the (southern) coversand sites a forager-type mobility system issuggested while the wetland occupation may best be characterised by a collectortype of mobility system (see also Binford 1980; 1982). These would fit thegeneral landscape characterizations presented earlier. Activities on the (southern)coversand may have been more aimed at the hunting of terrestrial fauna, withincreased mobility and movement between locations offering an expected range ofresources (see also Cromb et al. 2011b, 467). The aquatic wetland environment(see also Nicholas 2007a,b) offered far more opportunities for longer stays, loweredmobility and favoured a collector-type of mobility system.Information for sites in the other defined groups is more limited. Based on theavailable data it is likely that the northern coversand landscape due to similaritiesin natural environment and landscape, may have offered similar opportunitiesfor occupation as the southern coversand landscape. Hearthpit sites and othersites may be interpreted along similar lines, although certain differences in theirlocation and the existence of hearthpits as such should be taken into account withrespect to for instance site function and occupation duration. In contrast theriver valley sites around Lige and to some extent the wetland margin sites (forinstance Hoge Vaart and Swifterbant) point to similarities, albeit on a lesser scale,with wetland sites. Especially the sites around Lige point to investment in places,structures and activities such as fishing. The sites and information available are,however, not sufficient at present to further elucidate these similarities.To what extent the sites functioned in settlement systems is difficult to attest.For the winter occupation at the wetland sites of Hardinxveld it is plausible toassume a complementary wetland margin counterpart for occupation during thesummer half of the year. It is also possible that groups may have split up andeffectively combined aspects of mobility systems (see also Brouwer-Burg 2012).Based on similarities in lithic toolkit composition such a hypothesis has also beengenerated for the southern coversand landscape in tandem with sites situated inthe river valley (cf. supra). It is plausible to assume that the delta and river valleywetland locations in particular offered an interesting site location choice in thelean winter seasons, when aquatic and associated resources could complement thediet.Finally, there is little information regarding the extent to which systems ofmobility differed, whether they could operate complementarily or were ratherarchetypical for most of the mobility and settlement system of a group. Overall

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the degree of investment in wetland occupation as witnessed at the sites of

Hardinxveld is distinct and points to communities that for an important partof the year lived in, invested in and focused on exploiting these wetland areasand did so for a considerable time. This indicates that a combination with anopposite and diverging lifestyle such as the one posed for the southern uplandsites appears less likely, especially taking into account the distinct differences intoolkit composition and raw material procurement, housing and mobility. Whilethe flexibility in these communities to combine and adopt different types ofmobility and resource procurement should not be underestimated (e.g. Lovis etal. 2006b), the wetland and coversand sites presented here should perhaps best beunderstood as opposite ends on a hunter-gatherer settlement system continuum.These ends do not preclude combinations, as sketched earlier, but do supportthe existence of certain emphases that characterise the communities involved anddefine the diversity present.

5.7 Implications for Neolithisation

It is increasingly clear that the study of the food producing transition requiresunderstanding the foraging populations that formed the context of the transitionFurther, the relationships between early horticulturalists and foragers are likely toinvolve connections which constrain and shape the decisions of bothExistingadaptive diversity among these [forager] groups ensured that decision-makingwas variable in the face of agriculture arriving.(Madsen/Simms 1998,258-260).

In this final section the repercussions of the diversity sketched will be brieflyinterpreted with respect to their importance for understanding the process ofNeolithisation in the LRA. Since the data is qualitatively limited and data-points(sites) are relatively few and far between only some preliminary remarks are inplace.

5.7.1 Theoretical background: Mesolithic influence and complexity

In detecting diversity with respect to Neolithisation, the main premise is that thedifferences in character between Late Mesolithic groups will have contributed todifferences in development of the process of Neolithisation. In this respect it wasargued by Zvelebil (2004b, 45) that the direction and pace of farming reflectsas much the existing Mesolithic social context as it reflects the conditions ofNeolithic communities and regional ecological circumstances. Another importantfactor in relation to this is the actual distance involved in the interaction betweenhunter-gatherers and early farmers. This will also be touched upon below.The role of complexityIn the past the discussion regarding the influence of the Mesolithic substrate onNeolithisation focused on the multi-facetted topic of complexity. Over the yearsmany scholars have tried to define complexity, which mainly refers to aspects ofsocial organisation with repercussions for group size, subsistence, mobility andsocial stratigraphy (e.g. Keeley 1988, 373; Neeley/Clark 1990; Price/Brown1985, 4-7; Testart 1982, 523). Based on a wide array of ethnographic studiesa number of causes (often demographic and environmental pressure or societal

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change), consequences and conditions have been identified (Price/Brown 1985).

Important changes associated with increasing complexity include intensificationof production and technology, changes in the settlement system (reduction ofmobility) and different structures of decision making, or increased hierarchy anddifferentiation (ibid.; Keeley 1988, 404; Kelly 1995). Archaeological discussionsregarding complexity mainly focused on the Scandinavian Mesolithic and thedevelopment of the Kongemose and Erteblle communities, often in relation tothe importance of marine exploitation (Andersen 1994; 2004; Bailey/Milner 2003;Grn 1987; Larsson 1990a). It has been argued that an increased dependence onaquatic resources and increased complexity could have facilitated the adoptionof farming due to increased sedentism, reduced risk and logistical strategies ofprocurement (Price 1996, 359). Others have argued that the same factors mighthave prevented hunter-gatherers from going over, buffering any necessity to doso (e.g. Binford 1968; Price 2000c; 2003; Rowley-Conwy 2001; Zvelebil/Lillie2000).Abandoning complexityOver the past years the polarized debate concerning complexity among huntergatherers has been nuanced. Rowley-Conwy (2001) points out that there is noevolutionary trend from egalitarian OAS groups (Original Affluent Society)towards more complex groups of hunter-gatherers and criticizes the theoreticalunderpinnings of the above-mentioned causes of complexity. He also arguesagainst the idea that complexity would form a logical step towards agriculture(as for example stated by Hodder 1990). Drawing amongst others on case-studiesdealing with the Jomon culture, the Natufian and more recent groups of Arctichunter-gatherers it becomes clear that (aspects of ) complexity need not necessarilylead to incipient agriculture (ibid. 58-64).For the LRA there is virtually no evidence for complexity among huntergatherers (e.g. Verhart 2003, 442; see also Raemaekers 1999, 184), although thisdepends on the extent to which the classical denominators of complexity areused and interpreted (see also discussion in Cromb et al. 2011b). There is littleor no evidence for status differences, specialisation, a rich ornamented materialculture, cemeteries or a sedentary lifestyle. Yet, despite the extent to whichtaphonomy has rendered the identification of some of these factors impossible,the existence of characteristic differences between communities of Late Mesolithichunter-gatherers with respect to settlement, mobility and food procurement hasbeen demonstrated. These differences arose as a result of different necessities inadaptation (see also Rowley-Conwy 2001).

5.7.2 Interpreting diversity and Neolithisation

The above means that the aim is to define, or postulate to what extent the diversityexisting would have facilitated aspects of Neolithisation. As argued above the maindifference was that between the upland coversand area with its terrestrially oriented,residentially mobile communities and true wetland locations characterised byan aquatic economy, increased site investment and lowered mobility. Althoughthere will have been a gradual transition between delta-based communities withan important wetland component and upland communities with a more limited

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wetland component, the characteristics of the communities towards either side of

the spectrum will probably have formed a variable background with respect to thedevelopment of Neolithisation.As evidenced by a number of archaeological and ethnographic studies, theeconomic potential and buffer capacity of wetland areas is substantial (Binford1990; Nicholas 1998a,b; 2007a,b; Van de Noort/OSullivan 2006; Zvelebil/Lillie2000). As a basic hypothesis one could propose that in the absence of stress overarea (territory) or resources, the characteristics of wetland settings offer a reliableand rich background for hunter-gatherer communities and no economic incentiveto adopt aspects of agriculture. In line with this it was argued by Binford (1990,149) that aquatic resources would first be used under conditions of demographicpacking, while agriculture would only appear after substantial periods of time.In settings with little aquatic potential relatively quick moves directly towardsagriculture could be expected under packed conditions. Apart from the qualitiesof the environment, Binford distinctly adds a factor of stress (demographic orresource related) to the mix.In light of these considerations the LRA situation may now be characterized.

5.7.3 Aspects of diversity and distance

A crucial factor of importance involves distance, combined with intensity incontact and a potential pressure or stress with respect to resources. These factorsin combination with the characteristics of the communities involved defined thetrajectory of Neolithisation in the LRA.A southern perspectiveWhile some of the wetland communities were already in contact with fullyNeolithic farmers from early on (Louwe Kooijmans 2003; 2007a) as attested by theexchange of objects such as flint and later on pottery and Breitkeile (Raemaekers etal. 2011; Vanmontfort 2008b; Verhart 2012), interaction was most likely indirectand not regular. Interaction will have been more direct and probably intensive inthe south due to the immigration of LBK farmers into the loess area there around5300 cal BC. Although the evidence is limited (Amkreutz et al. 2009) interactionmay have been of a mutual or antagonistic character (Gregg 1988; Vanmontfort2008a). Of importance will have been the extent to which their livelihood ashunter-gatherers could continue. Continuation of terrestrial hunting and possiblyseasonal floodplain use might over time have become fraught with competition overresources. The focus of these communities on terrestrial species in combinationwith the unpredictable and dispersed character of their distribution would havenecessitated a higher degree of mobility and frequent moves (Cromb et al. 2011b,467), making them more vulnerable to competition.While there are indications for avoidance and conflict in some areas (seeGolitko/Keeley 2007; Vanmontfort 2008a), overall there is little evidence on thenature of interaction, including the role played by groups such as the La Hoguettecommunities (e.g. Manen/Mazuri de Keroulin 2003). Despite developmentsnoted for western Flanders with respect to site use and structure (Cromb et al.2011b) there is no evidence for distinct changes in behaviour or economy forLate Mesolithic sites over time (for instance those incorporating Final Mesolithicelements such as LBK-like points). This may point to a continued consistency in

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mobility and subsistence during the introduction of agriculture in the area. Theactual shift towards an agricultural existence may therefore have been of a shortterm nature when economic or social (see Verhart 2000) competition arose.The evidence for the degree and nature of interaction between the huntergatherers in the south and the Neolithic arriving there is limited. After the suddencollapse of the LBK communities and somewhat later the Blicquy communities inthe southern loess zone, new qualitative evidence for occupation dates mainly tothe Middle Neolithic Michelsberg culture. This type of Neolithic is characterisedby a different type of settlement system, including central sites and flint mines.Apart from the loess region other areas (sandy soils, Meuse valley) are now occupiedas well. This also points to changes in the agricultural system and crop spectrum(e.g. Vanmontfort 2004; see also Bakels 2003; 2005; Cromb/Vanmontfort 2007;Lning 1968; Schreurs 2005; Verhart 2000). This type of settlement system andeconomy was probably better adapted to settle and farm other areas compared tothe more rigid extensive LBK economy (see also Bogaard 2004). It is generallyaccepted that by the end of the 5th millennium the Mesolithic and Neolithiclifeways south of the Rhine-Meuse delta and in the Meuse valley had coalescedinto the Middle Neolithic Michelsberg culture. This shift echoes other shiftstowards the Neolithic in Europe, particularly in Great Britain and Scandinavia(Price 2000b; 2003; Sheridan 2004; 2007).A wetland perspectiveThis development contrasts with the well-documented steps in the developmentof Neolithisation in the wetlands of the LRA. As argued above the communitiesthere came into contact with the farming communities from early on. Theevidence available indicates a very slow and gradual transition, starting with theprocurement of foreign flint and artefacts, through the piecemeal introductionof pottery and domesticates to experimentation with crop cultivation (see DeGrooth 2008; Louwe Kooijmans 1998a,b; 2007a; 2011; Out 2009; Raemaekers1999; Vanmontfort 2008b). At no stage is there evidence for drastic change orthe sudden introduction of elements of the Neolithic package. While they thusengaged in interaction, the effects on society were probably less intense, indirectand, importantly, self-imposed.The above-mentioned factors, distance and intensity of contact as well as theapplicability of upland farming to these areas, are defining characteristics ofthe development of Neolithisation in this area. Crop cultivation in many of thewetland areas (excluding the coastal ridges and upland margins) could only takeplace on a limited scale (see Bakels 1986; Out 2009). Furthermore as argued abovethe wetland communities had a lower residential mobility and a stable resourcebase which incorporated aquatic resources. This allowed for the investment intraditional settlement locations and territoriality. This position of relative wealthand stability might have mitigated the need to incorporate other resources orintensify contact (contra Price 1996). Everything points to a very gradual andinternally controlled introduction and a process whereby much of the character ofthe initial Late Mesolithic communities remained unchanged for a long time.

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5.7.4 Conclusion: diversity and Neolithisation

It is more than likely that the differences that existed between Late Mesolithiccommunities of hunter-gatherers in the LRA, aspects of which have beendemonstrated above, will have significantly contributed to the eventual outcomeof the process of Neolithisation. In general this resulted in two different trajectoriesof Neolithisation.In the south the interaction with the LBK and subsequent Neolithic groupsultimately led to the disappearance of hunter-gatherer communities with thedevelopment of the Middle Neolithic Michelsberg culture (see Vanmontfort2004; 2007). Interaction and contact could have swiftly led to acculturation,transformation or abandonment of previous lifeways, especially if competitionover resources or territory, combined with economic or social incentives werea factor in this. The proximity between farmers and foragers could have placeda strain on resources and space, at least in some areas. Becoming a farmer ormoving away were probably the two main options and eventually the decreasingmargins for the latter and the benefits of the former will have brought about theend of a purely hunting and gathering existence. Unfortunately the archaeologicalresolution of contact and interaction in the south remains limited, preventing aproper analysis and comparison (cf. Amkreutz et al. 2009).The wetland and wetland margin areas are characterised by a different trajectory.The impact that the Neolithic had and the change it brought was absorbed andincorporated much more gradually. One factor will have been distance; it is onlyafter the Early Neolithic that the upland coversand areas bordering on the delta andthe northern wetland areas were inhabited by agricultural communities. Anotherfactor must have been suitability. The dynamic aquatic environment will not havebeen suitable for large-scale agriculture. Furthermore the agricultural system ofthe Early Neolithic (LBK and Rssen communities) only gradually developed intoa more mobile, flexible and versatile system in the following centuries. Last butnot least the communities of originally hunter-gatherers living in these parts willhave formed an important factor in determining what new knowledge, practices,techniques and products would have been acquired and incorporated. Much pointsin the direction of a very gradual and internally controlled introduction. Thecharacteristics of these developments, the communities living in these wetlandareas and their long-term relationship with their surroundings (landscape andenvironment) will form the focus of the following chapters.

Notes1

2 3 4

Important in this respect are for instance the !Kung San points reported on by Wiessner (1983) thatpotentially signify a strong regional identity, while on the other hand the almost complete absenceof trapezes at the stratified Late Mesolithic wetland site of Polderweg (Van Gijn et al. 2001a) mayvery well relate to functional issues, such as an economy focused on wetland exploitation.It should be noted that in Belgium the Swifterbant culture is more often classified as Final Mesolithic,whereas in the Netherlands Neolithic is more often used (e.g. Cromb/Sergant 2008, 76).It is argued here that the meagre evidence existing for violence and conflict rather reflects therepeatedly documented intra-cultural violence between LBK communities (e.g. Price et al. 2006),than perhaps incidental conflicts with hunter-gatherers.For further information regarding La Hoguette, Limburg and Begleitkeramik, the reader is referredto the following publications: Aim/Jeunesse 1986; Amkreutz et al. 2009; Bakels 1992; Behre 2007;Van Berg 1990; Brounen 1999; Brounen/Hauzeur 2010; Brounen et al. 2010; Constantin 1985;Constantin et al. 2010; Gehlen 2006; Heinen 2006; Jeunesse 1986; 1987; 1994; Kalis et al. 2001;Lning et al. 1989 Manen/Mazuri de Keroualin 2003; Modderman 1974; Schtz et al. 1991.

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5 6

7 8

10 11

12

13

14

In this respect it should be questioned though to what extent radiocarbon dates and numbers of sitesform proxies for population dynamics.The site of Doel-Deurganckdok is not included despite its roughly similar position on a coversandridge when compared to Melsele. This is based on the fact that the hearthpit features date to thetransition of the Middle to Late Mesolithic (Van Strydonck/Cromb 2005). The Late Mesolithictrapezes, Montbani blades and Wommersom quartzite probably date to the same period as theSwifterbant pottery (Cromb et al. 2000). There is therefore not enough evidence to isolate anunambiguous Late Mesolithic occupation or set of artefacts.During the Neolithic the landscape consisted of dry and sandy ridges of up to 10 m wide and ofhumid lows. One of these (depression B) may have contained the actual stream of the Scheldt(Parent et al. 1987a, 7-9; see also Parent et al. 1987b).During the completion of this manuscript a new site was discovered at Well-Aijen. Preliminaryresearch at this location in the form of contract archaeology demonstrated an interesting potential.Atop an old Meuse stream ridge a number of Mesolithic and Neolithic sites was discovered. Someof the sites demonstrated the existence of internal stratification. Furthermore, an ancient gully fillmay shed light on the ecological and organic component of this type of occupation next to theMeuse. The site promises to yield interesting data on the Mesolithic occupation next to the Meuseat different time intervals including the Late Mesolithic. Furthermore there are indications for EarlyNeolithic and early Middle Neolithic occupation of Bischheim and/or MK affiliation. The site hasonly been investigated preliminarily with additional fieldwork planned between 2012 and 2014. TheRCE has valued the site as being of regional and national importance (see Appendix I).Models for the Mesolithic in Northeast Belgium indicate that, next to continued occupation locationsnear peat fens, there is an increase in settlement locations near streams in the Late Mesolithic. Thismight be correlated to the increased and more permanent discharge of lowland rivers from theBoreal onwards, making these reliable sources of water. It should however be noted there is anaverage error in the modeling of c. 200 m in determining the actual location of sites (Vanacker et al.2001). For the region of Sandy Flanders Cromb et al. (2011b, 463) indicate a more a general movetowards wet places in the Late Mesolithic.This resulted in the asymmetric shape of the dunes and water situated on one side (pers. comm. B.Vanmontfort 2012).No intensive study has been undertaken yet on correlating the location of Late Mesolithic sites withoutcrops of rolled nodules from fluviatile deposits or the main terrace underneath the Campineplateau. This would form an interesting avenue of research for gaining a better understanding of themotivations underlying settlement location choice (see also Van Gils/De Bie 2008).At Lige-Place St.-Lambert these were fossil channels of the Lgia, at Remouchamps-Station LeDuca smaller channel associated with the Amblve and at Namur the site was situated at the actualconfluence of the Meuse and the smaller Sambre (e.g. Gob/Jacques 1985; Mees et al. 1994; Remacleet al. 2000). The former site was situated at the exact point where the Lgia crossed the small valleyof the Pierreuse and entered the wider floodplain of the Meuse (see Van der Sloot et al. 2003, 81).Remouchamps-Station LeDuc was positioned at the point where the Amblve emerged from theArdennes Massif and entered the wider floodplain before joining the Ourthe (Gob/Jacques 1985,163-164).The moving average method is a filter technique supported by Surfer 8.0. Using grid-based datathe technique averages the counts of adjacent cells in order to smoothen possible taphonomicor methodological inconsistencies. The segments selected for smoothening can be adjusted,for example for 2 x 2 or 3 x 3 m intervals. To prevent a biased averaging of neighbouring cells(disproportionately favouring and enhancing low counts in proportion to high counts), there is thepossibility of adding a weight to the selected cells. Used in this way the smoothening technique isvery suitable for detecting and revealing trends in distribution patterns (see also Wansleeben/LouweKooijmans 2006). The technique is not useful for analysing spatially limited excavations. Problemsrelated to the limited extents of excavations have been noted by e.g. Hodder/Orton 1976 and Cziesla1990a,b).Although it is not possible to prove the existence of a clearly delimited Late Mesolithic and EarlyMesolithic zone, the existence of the former is reasonably well established through the distributionof trapezes and several groups of raw material as well as through refit data (see Verhart 2000,69-123). In this sense the Late Mesolithic delimitation is accepted here. Since the differentconcentrations (Verhart uses the term clusters) form functionally different and related aspects ofwhat was supposedly one site, the combined extent of these and their accompanying scatters is takenas the site extent. The resulting scatter is of a roughly ovoid shape. While Verhart (2000, 116 andfig. 2.26 ) defines five concentrations within the Late Mesolithic zone, three of these are acceptedhere. Concentration 5 is related to a combination of backed blades and might therefore be evidenceof an event of abandonment (of a composite tool) (ibid. 123). It is however not of any dimensionalvalue and therefore cannot be defined as a concentration here. Despite their isolated occurrenceconcentrations 3 and 4 are taken together here because of their spatial proximity and functional

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15

16 17

18 19

20

21 22

23

24

25 26

correspondence. Although there is no conclusive explanation for interpretation of the empty zonebetween both clusters (cf. ibid. 126), it is believed here, also considering the distribution of findssurrounding the concentration, that both likely formed part of one whole. The empty space mighthave a taphonomic or functional explanation. Finally concentration 6 is added, consisting mainly ofburnt flint associated with hearth 4.This problem also occurs at sites where finds have been recorded three-dimensionally. The effectsof bioturbation and superposition not only hamper the definition of spatial clusters as such, butalso their delimitation, even at those few locations where all finds (instead of a selection) are pointreferenced such as at Brecht-Moordenaarsven (Vermeersch et al. 1992, fig. 23). As was argued in thepreceding, the use of statistical analyses can often do nothing to further unravel this.The terminology including concentrations, clusters and scatters is often used indifferently. Here theterms have spatial connotations and are characterised by a difference in density.Unfortunately the quantity and density of lithic remains proved less helpful in delimiting andcharacterizing concentrations. No counts were available for the individual concentrations selected.Artefact counts per excavated sector or trench moreover yielded highly variable results. Thiscan partly be explained by taphonomic conditions and excavation strategy, but may also reflectoccupation intensity. For example, at Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek (Arts 1994) the artefact density inthe only trench (of 224 m2) that yielded a concentration amounted to 0.77 artefacts per m2, whilethe density of sector 1 at Weelde-Paardsdrank (129 m2 and containing 3 concentrations) amountedto 51 artefacts per m2, when only counting the in situ remains. The low counts at Helmond mayrelate to the location of the trenches south of the main concentration of artefacts in combinationwith the mechanical removal of the medieval arable layer.At Merselo-Haag a distinction could be made between concentrations 1 and 2 dominated bydebitage activities, and concentrations 3 and 4 with evidence for retooling, maintenance, processingand consumption (Verhart 2000, 116), all within 9 m of each other.The presence of burnt flint and charcoal in the activity areas at Merselo-Haag cannot be directlyrelated to the hearths in view of their disparate distribution (Verhart 2000, 79). Although this maybe explained taphonomically it is also likely that the burnt flint and charcoal form the remnants ofdumps. Meeuwen-In den Damp yielded evidence for a secondary displacement of both knappingwaste and a hearth, the waste apparently being pushed outward in a centrifugal process (Pilati2001). At Weelde-Paardsdrank sector 5 (Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, plan 7), there are several partiallyoverlapping concentrations of organic remains (i.e. charcoal, burnt bone and hazelnut shells). Theymay be interpreted as secondary refuse, since they cannot be associated with a distinct hearth.Binford (2002, 184-187) for instance noted an area of increasingly specialized activities away fromthe core residential area. Some of these activities required considerable space (dog tethers, a stoneboiling hearth). He also noted specific clean-up strategies, such as preventive maintenance in orderto dispose of items away from intensively used areas (ibid.). Such peripheral activities may often beclassified as dangerous or dirty, yet it should be realised that this argumentation is based upon ouretic perspective of these activities (Sommer 1991, 67-73). David and Kramer (2001, 259, 279) pointout the multitude of motives underlying spatial separation including gender and ritual behaviour.The project was initiated after the finishing of this chapter and initial results could due to timeconstraints only be incorporated to a limited extent in the appendix (see Appendix I).Only H1:II yielded sufficient spatial information. Several spatial units can be detected within theartefact density contour pattern of this site, composed of circular shapes and measuring c. 1 to 3m (see Price et al. 1974, fig. 4). In this sense H1:II can be understood as a cluster composed ofseveral concentrations. Since similar clusters have been found along the circular ridge at Havelte andelsewhere an analogous situation seems to exist to the preferred settlement locations in the southerncoversand landscape.The estimated dimensions are based on both the general distribution and the extent of the trapezedistribution (see Beuker 1989, fig. 3 and fig. 32). Although the densest of concentrations can beattributed to treefalls, the remaining accumulations, as well as the distribution of the natural stone(see Beuker 1989, fig. 40), indicate the existence of minor concentrations, and hence use momentswithin the zones defined.The absence of hearthpits cannot be explained taphonomically: surface hearths could have beenmissed on the northern sandy soils, but hearthpits would have shown up in the south. As arguedearlier (Chapter 4) specific research traditions may be of influence here as well. Cromb et al. (1999)for instance argue that the absence of hearthpits at most of the Belgian Mesolithic sites might be dueto the limited area that is usually excavated.The description of the distribution of organic remains on page 151 does not match the symbolsused in Plan 7. According to the text the lozenges in the southwest should be squares representingcharcoal, while bones and hazelnuts should spatially co-occur to the north of this.A rather questionable Mesolithic hut feature was discovered at St.-Oedenrode (Heesters 1971). Itprovides a clear example of the difficulties in distinguishing between anthropogenic and naturalfeatures.

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27 It is also possible that the huts of Polderweg might have been made in treefall features (see Cromb1993). On the basis of the fact that the documented size differs from the treefalls analysed by Newell(1980), this is deemed unlikely by the excavators (Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001, 96). However,Bubel (2002/2003) has argued that the sizes documented by Newell are remarkably homogeneous.28 Cribb (1991, 84-96) gives several examples of nomadic stone-based structures, including hearths,storage platforms and dwellings.29 In the case of the non-megalithic burial practices in the LRA the existing evidence of mortuarypractices points to a very diverse spectrum (see Louwe Kooijmans 2007b).30 A distinct number of Late Mesolithic dog burials have been documented (see also Morey 2006). Oneexample is the Scandinavian site of Skateholm (Larsson 1990a,b).31 Other cremation graves are known from the coversand area at Dalfsen-Welsum and Oirschot V,both probably dating to the Middle Mesolithic. One Dalfsen grave concerns an elderly female withpossible trauma to her head. The other was a 13-14-year-old child. In both cases other bones werealso found, either human or animal (Verlinde 1974). In Oirschot, located in the southern coversandlandscape, important parts of the body also seemed to be missing. The concentration of the bonesthere suggests that they were collected after burning and placed together (Arts/Hoogland 1987; seealso Louwe Kooijmans 2007b).32 The reference to Binford 1983 with the original year of publication in brackets points to thepapers mentioned as compiled in the 1983 volume Working at Archaeology (Binford ed.). Theoriginal publications are listed in the references as well. The page numbers refer to Working atArchaeology.33 No technological information was available for Brecht-Moordenaarsven 3, Tietjerk-Lytse Geast I,Havelte-De Doeze-H1-I, and Swifterbant S11-S13. These sites yielded typological information.34 It should be noted that the composition is partially influenced by the fact that flakes are themselvesa waste product of blade production as well as by the standards used in the initial analysis fordistinguishing between both.35 The technological counts of blades, flakes, cores and core elements at both Hardinxveld sites differfrom the published counts due to the incorporation of tools as groundforms there. This has beencorrelated for. See Appendix II for further details.36 One could think of a limited importance of microlith production and retooling and the effects of afocus on activities such as fishing and trapping.37 Excluded are Brecht-Moordenaarsven 3, Meeuwen-In den Damp 1-1b, Hardinxveld-GiessendamDe Bruin, Swifterbant-S83 and Jardinga-Johannahoeve. The site of Tietjerk Lytse Geast I hasbeen excluded because of differences in the system of artefact recording. It is the only site forwhich no retouched blades and flakes have been recorded. Rather than this representing the actualsituation, informal tools have been incorporated in the counts under miscellaneous (pers. comm.B. Huiskes 2007). Unfortunately this prevents a comparison of the percentage composition of thetool assemblage with other sites. For Bergumermeer some information on number and percentageof tools is available from percentage counts in Newell and Vroomans (1972) and actual counts inHuiskes (1988, table 10). Points comprise c. 21% of the tool assemblage, scrapers about 20 % andborers and burins 5-6% each.38 Next to debitage in the style de Montbani (cf. Rozoy 1968), Montbani blades form an important andcharacteristic aspect of sites on the southern coversand. These blades have either one or more unilateralnotches, or show unilateral and irregular secondary retouch (e.g. Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, 191),often on the dorsal side (Robinson 2010, 141). Retouch may sometimes be inverse or alternatingand on some occasions the opposite edge is worked. Often there is a degree of lateralization to onepreferred side of notches and retouch (see Vermeersch/Lauwers 1982, 16). Frequent reworking ofthe edges may partially obliterate the difference between notched and retouched blades (Escalonde Fonton (1979) in Huyge/Vermeersch 1982, 181). It is not clear for what purpose these bladeswere used exactly (ibid. 191), but they have been associated with an increased utilization of plantresources (Gob/Jacques 1985, 175; Price 1987, 260).39 The high number of other tools at Lytse Geast is related to the many miscellaneous tools identified,which will probably incorporate retouched flakes and blades as well as notched and denticulatedartefacts.40 Counts for retouched flakes and blades at Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek include artefacts with steepretouch as well as flakes and blades with use retouch.41 Microlithic backed blades or bladelets might be interpreted as small inserts in composite huntingtools (Barton et al. 1995, 109). They are usually discussed or interpreted in association with pointsand other microliths (see De Bie/Caspar 2000; Huyge/Vermeersch 1982; Verhart 2000).42 The upper half of the distribution within the second group (northern coversand landscape), canpartially be attributed to the contribution of backed blades to the assemblages at Nieuw-Schoonebeekand Havelte-H1-I. Since backed blades are composite tools, these may skew the distribution in thecombined graph.

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43 Montbani blades, as well as knives, have also been associated with a greater utilisation of vegetativeresources (Gob/Jacques 1985, 175; Price 1987, 260). The evidence for this is, however, mainlybased on their generally late introduction within the time span of the Mesolithic and is thus not ofa primary nature.44 There are several statistical methods for interpreting site assemblages (Andrefsky 2005; Chatters1987; Price 1978), also from a spatial perspective (Huiskes 1988; Newell/Vroomans 1972; Newell/Dekin 1978). Most of these require more detailed analytical data, or an existing subdivision intosite types. Unfortunately many approaches are based on chronologically and spatially unreliableassumptions.45 These communities could be interpreted as belonging to RMS groups (see Gob 1985; Heinen2006)46 Van Oorsouw (1993, 45) also argues that some Wommersom quartzite might have been presentin Meuse gravels. This, according to her, could explain a higher percentage of GQW in SouthernLimburg. Cromb and Cauwe (2001, 56) furthermore identify a shift in raw material use duringthe Mesolithic. The source of Tienen quartzite was mainly exploited during the Early and MiddleMesolithic, while Wommersom quartzite abruptly gained importance from the Middle Mesolithiconwards. This is a further refinement of the study by Gendel (1984).47 At Polderweg, phase 1 yielded 7 GQW artefacts, including several blades (Van Gijn et al. 2001a). DeBruin, phase 1 only yielded one artefact of Wommersom quartzite (Van Gijn et al. 2001c). Furthernorth the site of Hoge Vaart also yielded one artefact of Wommersom quartzite (Peeters et al. 2001,22-23).48 Since the (either/or) composition with respect to raw material is less influenced by lower numbersthan in comparison to the typological and technological range of site assemblages, both BrechtMoordenaarsven 2 and Meeuwen-In den Damp-1-1b are included when informative.49 Van Oorsouw (1993, 10) argues that the specific debitage and use of GQW in the Netherlandsmight have differed from that at locations closer to the source. The evidence of the Dutch sitesstudied here, however, still seems in line with the presented Belgian evidence. Furthermore, thedataset used by Van Oorsouw is predominantly based on surface collections, also including otherperiods (ibid. 13-14). Although the number of Dutch sites in this study is much lower, the differencein procurement of GQW, does not necessarily seem to indicate a difference in use.50 Further west in sandy Flanders, grey-spotted flint was more important than Wommersom quartzitein the production of armatures (Robinson 2010, 180). It should be noted that many of the sites inthis study are surface complexes.51 The presence of small quantities of GQW in the form of blades or tools at considerable distancesfrom the Wommersom source (for example at Hardinxveld-Giessendam-Polderweg and Hoge VaartA27) might be indicative of this character of valued and sought-after exchange commodity.52 At the river dune wetland site of Hardinxveld-De Bruin, the component identified as northern flintforms c. 13% of the assemblage in phase one (Van Gijn et al. 2001c, 161). It is questionable whetherthe identification as northern flint is correct. If so, it appears that since most of the importantresources were located at a distance of c. 70 km (see Louwe Kooijmans 2001a,b; 2003) and sincenorthern flint is not necessarily of superior quality, this is more informative of a shift in resources,than of a different strategy.53 At Merselo and Hardinxveld-de Bruin respectively 41 and 3 flints of Hesbaye (light grey Belgian)type have been added to this category. At Hardinxveld-Polderweg and De Bruin, respectively 27 and1 Rijckholt flints have been added to this category.54 Currently these sites would be classified as Late Mesolithic without hypothesizing contact. Itshould be realised that the Hageland study is based on surface collections. There is thus a chance ofadmixture, even though the sites have been classified as Neolithiserend Mesolithicum (Vermeersch1976, 237). Vermeersch (e.g. 1976, 85 et passim) repeatedly mentions the occurrence of whitepatination on artefacts of Wommersom quartzite, something absent for many of the other sites.55 One exception is Helmond-Stiphoutsbroek (see Arts 1994, table 1). The contribution of GQWthere is 12.5 %, including the surface survey finds. When excluded the contribution increasesto over 17%. Concerning the other sites beyond 80-90 km which generally demonstrate lowercontributions, it appears Helmond is an exception.56 Gendel (1984) did not incorporate the available sites from the Hageland in his study, most probablybecause they were at the time not attributed to a Late Mesolithic sensu stricto (pers. comm. B.Vanmontfort 2007). Nevertheless, Gendel suspected percentages nearer to the outcrop to be similaror higher (1984, 142). It should be noted though that Gendel (1984, 152-157) at the time mainlyfocused on the differences in use of GQW over time.

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57 Note that the number of stone artefacts for De Bruin and the total could not be documented dueto differences in recording (compare table Van Gijn et al. 2001b, table 7.1 and Van Gijn/Houkes2001 table 7.1). The entire span of occupation is set at 1000 years since both sites existed partiallysimultaneously. (Data on flint and stone derived from Van Gijn/Houkes 2001; from Van Gijn etal. 2001a; Van Gijn et al. 2001b; Van Gijn et al. 2001c. Data on distances derived from Van Gijn/Houkes 2001; Van Gijn et al. 2001b; Louwe Kooijmans 2001a,b; 2003; Louwe Kooijmans/Verhart2007.)58 This is not meant to suggest the absence of intra-regional site variability (see Robinson et al.2008).59 The following publications represent a selection: Bettinger 1999; Binford 1980; 1982; 1990; Boaz1998; Chatters 1987; Cribb 1991; Habu/Fitzhugh 2002; Hayden 1981; Kelly 1992; 1995; Kent1991; 1992; Lovis et al. 2005; 2006a,b; Politis 1996; Price 2005; Price/Brown 1985; Rafferty 1985;Smith 2003; Whittle 1997; Wiessner 1982; Woodburn 1980; 1988; Zvelebil 2006.60 In this system subsistence procurement occurs on a daily basis using an encounter strategy andusually no storage of food takes place. This opportunistic manner of exploiting the environmentrequires limited planning depth, anticipation and technological investment (see also Chatters 1987,337; Rensink 1995, 86). Binford distinguishes two main components within this settlement system(1980, 9): residential bases where most activities take place and which are located in the vicinity ofresources, and locations, used for extractive tasks. Base camps are moved when resource depletiontakes place (see also Kelly 1995). Depending on the extents of the available resource patches, thenumber and distance of residential moves and the size of the groups involved might differ (Binford1980, 5, 10).61 Choices in mobility might be strategically planned, or evolve as a reaction to change. They mighthave an embedded, cyclical character (Binford 1980; 1983 (1979)), but can also be of a singularnature (see Kent 1992, 635-638) or change from year to year (see Jochim 1991, 311). They may bereversible (Habu 2002; Layton 1999; Layton et al. 1991; Rowley-Conwy 2001) and need not bepurely functional (Kelly 1995, 152-153).62 Often this space differentiation will be related to the privitization of space (Kelly 1992, 56).63 The Mesolithic site of Maaspoort near s-Hertogenbosch in the wetland margin was probably in useat the same time and might have hypothetically fulfilled a seasonally complementary function toPolderweg and De Bruin (see Louwe Kooijmans 2001a, 459; Verhagen 1991).64 While in reality actual mobility will be hard to distinguish archaeologically from anticipatedmobility, and both converge most of the time (see Kent/Vierich 1989), it does imply that the degreeof investment at certain sites might be related to expected occupation. From this it also follows thatcertain short-term sites, such as hunting locations, or temporary camps, might see a considerabledegree of investment in case of high anticipated mobility (see also Kent 1992, 639).65 In the following the terms houses, housing, huts, dwelling structures and dwellings will be usedindiscriminately. It should, however, be noted that the terms dwelling and dwelling structure are amore neutral terminology for these habitation structures, at least for hunter-gatherer communities.66 An extensive study of Janes among the Canadian Willow Lake Dene highlighted the complexityinvolved in choices between using round tipis or rectangular log cabins and the intricate life historiesof the latter. These were often rebuilt, moved about and replaced. According to Janes the choice forlog cabins might be related to the certainty of procurement of large amounts of resources. Tipis weremainly used for ideological, aesthetic and functional reasons (see Janes 1983, cited in David andKramer 2001, 290; Janes 1989). There is clearly no simple evolutionary development from circularto rectangular structures, but only a very general trend.67 Compare: e.g. Andersen et al.1982; Andersson 2004; Blankholm 1987; Bokelmann 1991; Bokelmannet al. 1981; 1985; Grn 1995; 2003; Hamburg/Louwe Kooijmans 2001; Karsten/Knarrstrm 2003;Louwe Kooijmans 2001a; Newell 1980; Srensen 1992; Warren 2005; Woodman 1985).68 His dataset (see Binford 2001) consists of 293 ethnographically documented groups of huntergatherers yielding sufficient information on mortuary practices. The correlations recorded are ofcourse of a general character and variability and differentiation from the norm are present.69 Recently another Mesolithic inhumation was discovered at the site of Dronten-N23 (SwifterbantBisonweg). The burial cross-cut some of the earlier hearthpits at the location (see appendix I).70 While Sagittaria latifolia is indigenous to North America, related species such Saggitaria sagitifoliahave been found at for example Hardinxveld-Polderweg (see Bakels/Van Beurden 2001; Out 2009).Plants such as waternut (Trapa natans) might also have been harvested with the aid of canoes.71 We should remain aware of over-stressing the contrasts suggested. For instance the axes made ofaurochs bone documented at Polderweg must have originated from the coversand area. People mayhave combined both strategies to a certain extent.72 Of course bow-and-arrow hunting might also comprise fowling and several fishing strategies, butaside from the fact that these will often have formed a more limited component it is questionablewhether flint-tipped arrows would have been used. See e.g. Clark 1952 for examples of typicalarrowheads for hunting birds.

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73 The procurement of terrestrial game might still have been profitable in winter (see Kelly 1995;Kelly/Todd 1988), especially in comparison to botanical resources. Nevertheless, if aquatic resources(sensu lato) were available during the winter these might have formed a more predictable and stablecontribution to the diet.74 At Polderweg various species of fish and fowl argue for a presence at least during mid-winter, butthe site might have been in use from September to March and was at least visited in early autumn(Louwe Kooijmans 2003, 619). The seasonal signature for De Bruin is less evident, but indicatessummer activity during its later phases. The most plausible option is a winter base camp with alogistical function during the summer (Louwe Kooijmans 2001b, 518).75 One could argue that a site such as the Swifterbant fishing and fowling camp of Bergschenhoek (seeAppendix I) would function as such a field camp in a logistical system.76 The model differs from the earlier model presented by Verhart (2000; 2003), in that riverine settingsare combined with upland locations and presented in a seasonal system. Verhart presents coversandsurface sites that are either located at the margin of the Peel or the margin of the Meuse and do notdiffer in tool composition.77 Caution is required since istope analysis is fraught with difficulties (e.g. Gehlen 2005; Milner etal. 2004). In the case of the Meuse Basin (Bocherens et al. 2007) it is important to note thatmost of the Mesolithic skeletal remains are of an early Mesolithic date. Middle Neolithic samplesshow increased importance of freshwater resources linked to the environmental restraints placedon hunting by the climax vegetation of the Atlantic forest. Later Neolithic bones again show anincrease of terrestrial resources. This does not refute the idea that many upland Late Mesolithic siteswere situated in suitable locations and that terrestrial hunting was an important activity. Therefore adistinct difference of degree with respect to wetland locations should still be expected.

Chapter 6

Communitiesin transition: someremarks on aspects of Neolithisation,long-term perspective and changeWe live in a world where great incompatibles co-exist: the human scaleand the superhuman scale, stability and mobility, permanence andchange, identity and anonymity, comprehensibility and universality.Kenzo Tange, Japanese architect (Boyd 1962, 113)

6.1 IntroductionThe previous chapters (4 and 5) demonstrated that the wetlands and their marginsform a distinct landscape region, with respect to both taphonomic processes andmethodological approaches as well as regarding the (Mesolithic) communities thatinhabited them. In this chapter and those that follow the cultural continuumof communities inhabiting this area will be further examined from a diachronicperspective. This involves the Late Mesolithic, Swifterbant culture, Hazendonkgroup and Vlaardingen culture. The emphasis will lie on the characteristics ofthese communities, as resulting from their interaction with the wetland landscapeand conditions. This may also inform us on the stance of these groups towardschange, eventually related to Neolithisation.This chapter details the theoretical perspectives chosen. They interrelate andoverlap and in combination provide a theoretical frame of reference that may offernew ideas regarding the regionally specific particularities of these communitiesand their position within the process of Neolithisation. In Chapters 7 and 8 theseideas will be used in the interpretation of different aspects of these communitiesand their occupation of the wetland area over time.Towards new questionsThe communities in the wetlands and their margins in the LRA have historicallybeen studied intensively as far as material, functional, ecological and economicaspects of their existence are concerned, often incorporating and combiningdifferent disciplines (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 1993a; 1998a; Peeters 2007; Out2009; Raemaekers 1999; 2003; Van Regteren Altena 1962/1963; 1964; De Roever2004 ). These studies in combination with recent site reports (Louwe Kooijmans2001a,b; Louwe Kooijmans 2006a; Peeters/Hogestijn 2001), provide a solid basisfor understanding these groups, their culture and their position in a period oftransition. Building on this, new and different questions may be asked thatparticularly address the socio-ideological identity of these groups and that mayoffer new perspectives for understanding these communities and their positionin the process of Neolithisation. This does not mean that previous research

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approaches, be they material, economic, functional or ecological, have become

obsolete in fact the approach chosen here would not be viable without them but it does mean they answer different questions. This requires brief elaboration.With respect to the process of Neolithisation in the LRA, the analysis ofthe evidence hitherto available has quite robustly sketched the development ofthe transition to agriculture as well as the general outline and sequence of thedifferent stages therein (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 1993a,b; 1998a; 2007a; Raemaekers1999; 2003; Vanmontfort 2007). It has provided answers as to what changed,when it changed and to what extent it changed. It tracked Neolithisation withrespect to actors, technological innovations, objects, subsistence and sedentism,measuring or analysing both contribution and timing and it placed these within abroader European perspective. As a result, the transition to agriculture in the LRAcould be characterized as slow, gradual, involving a long phase of substitution(cf. Zvelebil 1986a,b) and a broad spectrum economy that was extended withdomesticates and cultigens (Louwe Kooijmans 1998a,b). This groundbreaking workprovides the basis to answer different questions, and opens a window on differentapproaches and new theoretical perspectives. These address questions of howand why instead of how and what, and focus on the communities in transitionthemselves, rather than on the elements that were introduced and their timing.Some new questions have been posed, for instance regarding the agency factor andsocio-symbolic aspects (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2009; Raemaekers 2002/2003),involving new frames of reference, yet there is potential for a more elaborateand encompassing approach. In this study an approach has been selected thatemphasises socio-ideological aspects and emphasises these as important long-termfactors in (regional) behaviour and community choices. The approach is rooted inanalyses of these social and ideological aspects as engrained in the interrelationshipbetween groups and their natural surroundings, without becoming ecologicallydeterminist.A theoretical contextSuch a new approach requires a theoretical framework that deals with these groupsfrom a situated, emplaced perspective and focuses on issues of experience andidentity, particularly in the long-term. It should be stressed that while such a postprocessually oriented theoretical framework may highlight valuable, informativecharacteristics of these communities, any proposed new ideas and hypotheses needfuture testing. One cannot therefore declaim a new truth. With this in mind, thecentral elements in this part of the thesis can be summarized as follows:

To what extent can the particularities of the various successive communities

studied, such as aspects of subsistence and settlement system (mobility),be understood as rooted in the long-term interactive relationship betweenthese groups and the wetland landscape? How were this landscape andenvironment perceived? And how may this have shaped community identityand mentalit?

How did the long-term involvement of these groups with their surroundingsshape their socio-cultural and ideological characteristics and what perspectivedoes this offer on Neolithisation?

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The present chapter forms an interpretative background for the approach

described and a theoretical context for studying these communities in relationto the particularities of the region they inhabited. Three aspects will be dealtwith consecutively. The first is of a general nature and involves the interpretativeconnotations of Neolithisation and the importance of defining our position withrespect to them. It particularly deals with the need for a non-dualist approachtowards Mesolithic and Neolithic in this study. Secondly the potential andparticularities of a diachronic perspective are discussed, since the study of thecontinuum of communities involved may benefit from an approach that detectsand stresses persistent traits and characteristics. Finally Neolithic changes shouldbe understood in relation to the manner in which the communities involved dealtwith them. Conservative elements and new decisions will be studied by analysingthe mechanisms of decision-making and change and the way these relate to themanner in which communities inhabited and dealt with their surroundings. It isespecially the relationality between people, landscape, places and environmentthat is of importance in relation to the changes which becoming Neolithic mayhave brought about.

6.2 Interpreting Neolithisation

Ever since Lubbocks subdivision of the Stone Age into a Palaeolithic and aNeolithic era (1865), the character of the latter and the transition between the twohave constantly witnessed various efforts to define a distinguishing and uniquecriterium (see Chapter 3). After the materialistic scope of the pierre polie, potteryand houses, Childes advancement of food production (1976 (1925); 1958) hasremained the most important determinant for the Neolithic and Neolithisation(Zvelebil 1998b, 3, 26; see also Raemaekers 1999, 13; Chapters 2 and 3). Accordingto Zvelebil and Lillie (2000, 59) it remains the only process which is relativelyclearly defined, geographically widespread, and archaeologically detectable, whichallows it to act as a key feature. From a post-hoc perspective this is of course true;eventually there was a pan-European shift to agriculture. However, although theynote some problematical aspects themselves, the arguments defined by Zvelebiland Lillie are not as convincing as they may initially seem. First of all a shiftto (agro-pastoral) farming is not a process that is relatively clearly defined. Theincorporation of an agricultural way of life can take many forms and is a reversibleprocess, especially in its incipient stages (e.g. Habu 2002; Layton 1999; Laytonet al. 1991; Rowley-Conwy 2001). In ethnography and archaeology it has beendocumented that quantitatively, farming can both form an essential activity insubsistence modes as well as a minor element within a broad-spectrum economy(e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2007a). This varied scale of involvement with agriculturefurthermore takes place within societies that are classified materially and socially asranging from hunter-gatherers to farmers (Gehlen 2006; Kelly 1995; Kent 1989a,b,Raemaekers 1999, 118-120). Besides, the use of agriculture as a defining criteriumis qualitatively hampered by the currently popular concept of management ofthe environment and its resources. In relation to this it may be viewed as oneof several risk-reducing strategies or techniques such as storage, accumulation,intensification and fire-ecology (e.g. Ingold 1988; Hayden 1990; Jeunesse 2003;

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Mellars 1976; Terrell et al. 2003; Zvelebil 1994). Subsistence mode should thusnot be defined as an evolutionary concept and at least questioned as the maincharacteristic of the Neolithic.

6.2.1 Beyond terminology

The considerations mentioned above impede a spatially significant documentationof agriculture and question its impact as a determining principle. It is thereforedifficult to distinguish between who is farming and who is not, and to what extentevidence of farming equates to being Neolithic. One should also take into accounttaphonomic problems (see Chapter 4; Rowley-Conwy 2004).1 As such, researchinto these issues focuses on the degree to which a process of Neolithisation and itstrajectory can be detached from defining Mesolithic and Neolithic (communities),what the appropriate correlates are for the latters characterization, whether thereis a (single) successful distinguishing criterion and to what extent this is usefulregarding the spatio-temporal variability of the many transitions involved (e.g.Pluciennik 1998; Tringham 2000a).Defining an approachFrom a post-processual perspective there has been criticism of the primacy ofsubsistence and a singular economic perspective on Neolithisation. Bender (1978),Hayden (1990) and Jennbert (1988), for instance, specifically emphasized socialaspects as crucial in adopting agriculture, while for example Thomas (1991) andWhittle (1999) stressed the importance of conceptual and ideological change.The problem with these alternatives is that they too search for one unique featureand fail to incorporate other aspects of becoming Neolithic. Furthermore theyare probably even harder to distinguish archaeologically, since they deal withmotivations regarding becoming Neolithic and less with distinguishing features.Others have therefore advanced a more polythetic characterization of the processof Neolithisation accentuating its spatial and temporal variability and differentingredients (e.g. Czerniak 1998; Pluciennik 1998; Tringham 2000a). Thisapproach has been criticized for deprivation of a common central characteristic,and accused of degrading Neolithisation to a vague and vaporous neologism,obliterating concrete meaning (Zvelebil/Lillie 2000, 60).Both the monothetic and polythetic approaches are problematic. Definingone principal component within the process of Neolithisation, be it economic,technological or ideological, is more than anything else a contemporary appreciationof past reality. A change in subsistence mode involving agriculture can never bea change in subsistence mode only. It will have had repercussions beyond theeconomic domain and may, moreover, have received its incentive from outsidethe realm of economy. Arguing that there were many different Neolithics (cf.Pluciennik 1998), on the other hand, demotes a search for common characteristicsto a redundant time investment and makes it difficult to trace Neolithisationtemporally and spatially.While the problems sketched above may not be easily solved, one may choosea perspective that avoids these issues by shifting attention from labeling andcategorisation to the communities themselves. Several elements are of importancehere. First of all the focus needs to shift from the dual perception of what definesor differentiates Mesolithic and Neolithic to the characteristics of the regionally

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specific process of Neolithisation itself (see also Pluciennik 1998, 79). The mostimportant step is to appreciate that this process is never only about a changein subsistence, although the transition to agriculture may be one of its mostsalient characteristics. A second step involves an abandonment of the concept ofNeolithisation as a process of evolutionary progression, in favour of historicity.2Neolithisation is not about a directional development from forager to farmerthrough mechanisms of diffusion and acculturation. Instead, rather than beinggradual and unilinear it is characterized by trial and error, by incorporating newand perhaps alien concepts in familiar practice and by processes of bricolage (asdefined by Lvi-Strauss 1962). This emphasises the importance of an intensivestudy of the communities involved, their continuous and changing characteristics,as well as the manner in which they dealt with new elements, over an attempt tofix certain concepts like Neolithic and Mesolithic into place through definingcriteria which are of a relative nature (see also Whittle/Cummings 2007, 2). Sucha (long-term) study of the communities involved should be positioned within ameaningful regional framework. Within this framework emphasis should lie onanalysing the interrelationship between communities, landscape and environment.Coming to terms with what it meant to live in certain areas may shed light onboth practical as wel as socio-ideological aspects of society and in turn on the waycommunities may have dealt with new elements and change.

6.2.2 Against dualism

The focus on communities is at the same time a focus on continuity and change.It deals with aspects of society that remain the same and interprets changenot as an extraneous development, but as the result of implementation inexisting community structures. Since the communities involved in the processof Neolithisation in the LRA wetlands and their margins may be perceived asculturally subsequent (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2007a), the element of continuityand maintenance of societal stability (e.g. Bourdieu 1977; Sommer 2001) willhave been an important factor. It further underlines the idea that we shouldunderstand both the developments taking place and the communities involvedfrom the same perspective. This should be stressed because many studies into thetopic of Neolithisation work within a certain framework of fixed assumptionsand hypotheses that are often based on a dualist perspective. The main premiseoften boils down to the idea that during the transition to agriculture there is anoverall decrease in mobility related to an increase in settlement permanency. Thisis combined with population growth, increased territoriality, and aspects of socialdifferentiation and structuring of the landscape. The nature of the discussionsurrounding these parameters is often encased in an atmosphere of unilineardirectional development and progress. Becoming Neolithic is then also definedas the developmental changes within these areas, most of which generally overlapwith the different subsystems defined by Clarke (1977). In table 6.1 several of thepresumed changes have been highlighted.Both the above-mentioned characterization of the Mesolithic and the assumedchanges related to the Neolithic are a generalisation of a situation that is far morecomplex. Nevertheless many of the elements mentioned are more or less accepteda priori, within and beyond the LRA (e.g. Clark 1977, 116, but see also discussionin Price 2000a, 5; Price/Gebauer 1995, 8; Thomas 1999, 16; Whittle 1999, 6-7).

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Themes

Mesolithic situation

Neolithic changes

economy

hunting and gathering

reliance on domesticates and cultigens

procurement strategy

living off the land

producing

tools and equipment etc.

predominantly mobile (microlithic) toolkit, bone,

antler, wood

site furniture, pottery, polished stone axes

dwelling and investment

light-weight, temporary dwelling structures, tents,

huts, little planning

sturdy structures, houses, outbuildings, complex

technology, fixed design

mobility

residential or logistical mobility

decreasing mobility, permanency

territory

flexible, possibly moving territories

decrease in size, fixation of territory

fairly random, shifting use of space at a location

increased spatial organisation

predominantly primary refuse

increased secondary refuse

(hearth-oriented) activities

creation of a domestic sphere

huts, burials, activity areas

houses, cemeteries, fields, workshops

open accessible structure

enclosed inward structure, property?

small groups

increase in group size

(nuclear) families, bands

(extended) families, households

generalized/egalitarian, some complexity

increasing complexity, differentiation

fixed male-female tasks

shift in composition of tasks, decreasing female

mobility

intrinsic mobility and down-the-line exchange

emphasis on exchange and prestige

no or limited deposition

strong increase in deposition

limited (geometric) decoration

increase in (geometric) decoration, decoration

on pottery

incidental burial

cemeteries

subsistence

material culture

settlement system

(intra)site organisation

social aspects

ideology

mortuary practice

In recent years there has been an increasing awareness of this dualist approach and,partly inspired by the re-appreciation of hunter-gatherers an increasing criticismof thinking in classic Mesolithic-Neolithic dichotomies has been voiced (seee.g. Barnard 2007; Czerniak 1998; Pluciennik 1998; Strassburg 2003; Whittle/Cummings 2007; Zvelebil 1989).Hodder and the concept of domusA good example of the problems related to a dualist perspective may be giventhrough a discussion of Hodders perspective on Neolithisation. His approachtowards the process of Neolithisation has been built up around a socio-symbolicand ideological appreciation of the transition to agriculture. Fundamentalis the domestication or transformation of the natural and the wild (and alsoindividuality) into culture and society. The control over the wild acts as amechanism and synonym for control of society and shifts the emphasis frommaterial and economic cause and effect of Neolithisation to a consequence ofultimately social incentives. According to Hodder (1990, 31) domestication inthe social and symbolic sense may have occurred prior to domestication in theeconomic sense, indicating that the agricultural revolution may have been an

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Table 6.1 Assumed character

of the Mesolithic and ofNeolithic change.

epiphenomenon of deeper changes. Central to this argument is the concept of the

domus. Domus in its broadest sense means home. It not only involves the houseand its associated activities, but also encompasses tombs and monumental sitessuch as enclosures. According to Hodder (1990, 38, but see also Hodder 1998)the domus provided a way of thinking about the control of the wild and thegreater oppositions between nature and culture, social and unsocial. In this wayit became the conceptual and practical locus of social transformation and it washere that the origins of agriculture were conceived. The domus thus acted bothas a metaphor and mechanism of change, the former by embodying the drama ofemotions inspiring the drive to sedentism and intensification and the latter byforming the locus of production, reproduction, storage, processing and control ofthe relations between people within society (ibid. 41-42).The concept of the domus provides an interesting way to approach the transitionto agriculture. It steers clear of traditional explanations based on ecological oreconomic factors and focuses on a difference in mentalit. This to a certain extentempowers the indigenous groups to adopt or refrain from adopting such a newmentality and its associated concepts. However, while abandoning many of theclassic distinctions between the Mesolithic and Neolithic sketched above (see table6.1), Hodders work is hampered by its strong structuralist undertones. Hodderjuxtaposes many different aspects of the domus (e.g. man-woman, life-death,inside-outside, light-dark, wild-domestic etc., pp. 27, 69, 199, 300 et passim).These boil down to the main contrast in his work, that between domus andagrios, i.e. culture and nature. In Hodders efforts to interpret Neolithisation ona pan-Europe scale, the evidence is categorically forced into this more or less neoCartesian dichotomy. This forms an important shortcoming, in view of the factthat there is a rich body of mainly ethnographic accounts indicating that manygroups do not at all rigidly separate nature and wild from culture and society(e.g. Descola 1996; Descola and Plsson 1996; Ingold 2000; Pollard 2004; Jones2007, 92; Bird-David 1992b). Often there is much more of a continuum in whichtypically cultural and natural aspects of life are interwoven into one seamlessweb. This means that the worldview or mentalit of past communities, includingaspects such as myth may not at all have accommodated the suggested contrastbetween wild and domesticated. The introduction of a Neolithic way of life mightby consequence not have entailed a drastic ideological reorientation to the extentsketched by Hodder. This is also important in the debate concerning the conceptsof Mesolithic and Neolithic (see also Chapters 2 and 3, Strassburg 2003; Thomas1988; Zvelebil 1989). In the LRA wetlands and margins we are distinctly dealingwith hybrid groups that successfully combined wild and domestic characteristicsover a long period. This is why this study centers on a reserved attitude towardsopposing the Mesolithic and the Neolithic and adopting dualist perspectives forthe area, period, groups and process studied.Some considerationsThe above review leads to several important considerations for this study. Firstof all, the communities studied are perceived as demographically and culturallycontinuous and are therefore studied from an unchanged perspective. This meansthat the presence or contribution of Neolithic elements should not lead to adifferent approach, or an emphasis on different aspects. Secondly, since thesecommunities can be perceived as successive and taking into account the absence

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of any clear break or distinct moment of change it may be argued that the originalperception of the environment, rooted in the Late Mesolithic and the mentalitinvolved with this, will have remained a strong element in these communities(e.g. Barnard 2007; Bird-David 1990; 1992b). This contrasts to, for example, thedevelopment of the Neolithic in England or southern Scandinavia (e.g. Larsson2007c). The absence or limited importance of a distinction between nature andculture provides a different perspective on how Neolithisation developed and howNeolithic elements were understood and incorporated. Thirdly, understandingthe socio-ideological aspects of the communities involved may enhance ourperspective on Neolithisation in this area. In order to do so the way in whichthese Neolithic elements are rooted in the interrelationship between communities,landscape and environment should be studied. Furthermore, the approach thatneeds to be chosen is a diachronic one.Based on these perspectives this study aims to document the communities inthe wetlands and their margins and the continuity and changes that characterisethem from a long-term perspective and in relation to the environment. Regardingterminology the incorporation of domesticates and cultigens may be used toclassify communities as Neolithic, but this in itself is not (necessarily) informativeon the characteristics of the process of Neolithisation and not informative on theperception of, and implementation in the communities involved.

6.3 A long-term perspective

The perspective employed in this thesis to study these changes and theirtemporality is diachronic and long-term. This is inherent to the scope of a studyincorporating the process of Neolithisation in the LRA, encompassing roughly3000 years. It is also a necessity since site-formative processes operating overthe intervening millennia have left us with an incomplete dataset (see Chapter4). The taphonomically induced absence of certain categories of material, theuninformative character of many upland sites and the sparse well-excavatedwetland sites prevent, not including some exceptional cases (e.g. Jadin 2003;Lning 1982b; Vanmontfort 2004; Verhart 2000), an adequate appreciation ofcontemporaneously functioning sites and settlement systems. The main reasontoadopt a long-term perspective, however, lies in the fact that we are dealing withcontinuous communities in an uninterrupted cultural succession. While the scopeis long-term, the emphasis is on continuity in the light of the changes takingplace.

6.3.1 Adopting a long-term perspective

The use of a long-term perspective is usually considered one of the majoradvantages of studying prehistory and deep time (see Bailey 2007; Barrett 2004,11-12), and in this sense ideally suited to comprehending something as extensiveas the process of Neolithisation (in the LRA). What is often lacking in resolutionand detail at any one moment is thought to be compensated for by the ability tosee and document processes, changes and possibly causality. While this may betrue, there are also some problems to be considered. One of the most importantconcerns the conception of time as chronology that underlies many of these studies.This is problematic since it presents time as a linear and uniform phenomenondivisible into mutually exclusive units and incorporating a certain internal logic.

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Time in this totalising directional sense is imbued with explanatory potential. It

carries very definite evolutionary implications (Lucas 2005, 9-13). An emblematicexample is the study of the spread of agriculture over time by Ammerman andCavalli-Sforza (1971; 1973). The directionality and simplicity of this wave-ofadvance model has been justly criticized (e.g. Zvelebil 1986a,b; 1998a,b), its mainfallacy being the lack of appreciation of the internal complexity of interaction andchange. Other more recent examples of using a long-term perspective within apurely chronological framework are Gkiasta et al. (2003) and Dolukhanov et al.(2005). Yet less obvious examples also influence our ideas on Neolithisation, forinstance spatio-temporal schemes (e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 2007a, fig. 2) or generalcultural overviews. These, often necessarily, focus on definition and successioninstead of processes and dynamics. In reaction to this perception of time, theMarxist historian Althusser (1969, in Lucas 2005, 13-14) argues that there is nosingle continuous time, or universal time frame or reference but, rather, differenttemporalities, which produce different histories. Any kind of history that attemptsto be universal in its coverage, such as a periodization, reproduces the same linearassumption about time. In line with Tringhams thoughts on Neolithisation(2000a) as a regional mosaic, we are also dealing with different co-developingtemporalities.Interacting time-scalesIn recent years, several contributions have dealt with time and its perception (Bailey2007; Lucas 2005; Murray (ed.) 1999; Rosen (ed.) 2004a; Shanks/Tilley 1987;Thomas 1996b,c). Two important non-linear approaches have their origins outsideof the field (see also Lucas 2005, 15). The first, catastrophe theory (and relatedchaos theory), was developed within the natural sciences. These theories gave riseto useful archaeological applications such as complex systems and complexitytheory (Bentley 2003, 8-14). At the core of both chaos and catastrophe theoryhowever, is a perception of society as a system characterized by discontinuity andinstability. The emphasis is thus on a societal disequilibrium as an explanationfor sudden change.3 Societies are perceived to be in active stability, until changeoccurs in rapid events of perturbation (see Gould 1999, xx-xxi). This perspectiveand the disequilibrious nature of communities as perceived in chaos theory, failto accommodate for the gradual transition to agriculture documented in the LRA(e.g. Louwe Kooijmans 1998a,b). There we are faced with LBK and successivecommunities characterized by a complete and potentially available set of Neolithicelements ranging from pottery production, architecture and polished stone tools,through domesticated animals and crop plants to sedentism and even a changedmentalit. Out of this potent reservoir only some elements were initially drawn andincorporated in hunter-gatherer society. Intensification was slow, it was variable,but it was present. Instead of perceiving indigenous communities as mechanicaland instable systems with a threshold level above which collapse or transformationtakes place, it is, for the LRA, more appropriate to focus on the rationale behindthe choices that were made; to question their impact with respect to stability andunderstand the gradual nature characteristic for the area. In this sense anothernon-linear approach to time, developed within the historical Annales school byBraudel, might provide a better framework.

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In order to deal with both continuity and change Braudel (1966) divided timeinto three different scales, the longterm (longue dure), the medium and the shortterm. The longterm scale deals with slow processes such as environmental change.In combination with the medium term, focussing on conjunctures (cycles) of forinstance a social, economic, ideological or demographic nature, they form social orstructural history. The small time scale refers to events (vnements), and concernsactions of individuals or groups. The reflection of the medium-term and longterm scale upon the archaeological record might make them more appropriatewithin the study of prehistory (cf. Raemaekers 1999, 21), however it is exactlythe dialectical relationship between the different scales that provides insight intothe dynamics of change, stasis and transformation (Bintliff 1991; Braudel 1966;Lucas 2005, 15). Since all scales influence each other, it is the articulation of thedifferent scales with respect to each other which is important. Short-term eventsmay therefore form the fabric of long-term developments, but should themselvesalso be understood from this context (see Foxhall 2000).For the study of the transition to agriculture in the LRA all three scales areimportant. The long-term scale is most prominently represented by the changes inenvironment.These incorporate for instance the rise in sea and related groundwaterlevels and their subsequent stabilisation around 4000 cal BC and gradual decrease(e.g. De Mulder et al. 2003), or the impact of the Atlantic forest upon habitationpossibilities in the Northern Netherlands (Niekus 2006).4 It should be realisedthough that landscape and ecological changes may also be sudden. Transgressionfor instance represents a series (trend) of extraordinary high tides (events). Thereis thus a certain embedded relationship between the different time scales. Thenext level of conjunctures could accommodate for a whole range of trends suchas the material and economic changes involved in the transition from the LateMesolithic to the Swifterbant culture, the development and nature of exchangenetworks or the technological and stylistic development and relations of pottery.The scale of vnements finally seems appropriate for approaching burials ordeposition, but for instance also covers the initiatives leading to the adoptionof elements of the Neolithic package, or relate to the variability present withinone contemporaneous cultural group. The examples above are dependent uponthe time perspective chosen to study them, but serve to show that different timescales can be fruitfully applied. What is even more important here is that thesetime scales are a historicist means of acquiring a grip on the past, but that theyinteract, are embedded and influence each others outcome. It is an enhancedunderstanding of the interrelationship between these temporal scales that offersa clearer perspective on the groups studied here. Since we are dealing withcontinuous communities it is worthwhile to understand both their short-term aswell as longer term characteristics from an interrelated perspective (see Foxhall2000; Gerritsen 2008).

6.3.2 From time to temporality to memory

While the above might indicate the importance of a long-term perspective andeven argue for a Braudelian framework, time in itself is non-explanatory. Whilea diachronic perspective opens a window onto perceiving the characteristics of

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historicity and interpreting them in terms of societal change, additional insight

may be gained form understanding the way the perception of time may have beenembedded in the communities involved.Important in this respect is the addition of another dimension to thearchaeological material record. The dichotomy between past dynamic communitiesand the static nature of the material record resulting from the processual BinfordSchiffer dialectic (see Chapter 4) falls short when trying to interpret the activitiesof past communities from a temporal perspective. At the heart of this problemis the so-called Verfremdungseffekt characteristic for our usual interpretation ofthe past as a foreign country. The past is seen as something static and objectivewhich is distinctly different and separated, both from the present from which westudy the past as from any other present before that. This distinction betweenthe past and the present and its influence on archaeology has prompted somearchaeologists (e.g. Gosden 1994; Thomas 1996b) to draw on the work ofHeidegger and his ideas on Dasein to come to a different perception of time.This phenomenological approach sees time as actively situated in life and events.Human beings re-encounter and re-evaluate their material surroundings, perhapsalter their significance and reincorporate and reposition them in society, creatinga continuous motion of handing itself down to itself (Thomas 1996b, 60-61).The importance of this point of view lies in the fact that it does addtemporality to the past and so makes it of importance to past communities andtheir characteristics over time. According to Lucas (2005, 37-38) the past is amulti-temporal event and can be considered a palimpsest. Palimpsest here thushas a positive connotation. Landscapes, sites and even objects consist of thesemultiple temporalities which, instead of forming a single event or a sequence,are all (inter)active at the same time. In this sense another resolution is added.The site of Bergschenhoek (Louwe Kooijmans 1978; 1986) might serve as anexample of this temporal complexity referred to by Bailey as a temporal palimpsest(2007).5Visiting BergschenhoekBergschenhoek was located on the peaty shores of a lake in the coastal area northof the Rhine-Meuse estuary. The small site, consisting of a living platform (12m2), a hearth and several fishtraps, is considered to represent a fishing and fowlingstation. Yet despite the extraordinary clarity of the evidence, the site is also apalimpsest of temporalities. Most striking in this respect is the microstratigraphicalsequence of renewed hearths found at the site. In total 38 layers were recoveredrelating to renewal episodes. These could be grouped into ten to eleven phases ofhearth use, probably covering the like number of years (Louwe Kooijmans 1986,10).The living platform was renewed at different time intervals. It was reinforcedby local products such as bundles of reed and young trees as well as wooden boards,some of which may have had a long previous use-life in a different context (forexample as a canoe). The site also yielded evidence for a hut or small construction,yet no renewal phases could be reconstructed. The four fishtraps that were foundat the site were probably made locally and may not have functioned as long as theentire use-life of the site. Tools such as leister prongs, antler axes and awls mayhave been used and carried around for several seasons before being discarded atBergschenhoek. The baked clay weights and the pottery were not locally made, but

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originated in other locations. They may have been discarded there and designatedfor use at the fowling station. The fragment of a stone axe and the scarcity of flintindicate the level of care and curation vested in these lithic objects. They may havelasted a long time before being discarded, while the axe may have accompaniedthe group of hunters for several generations. Most of the faunal remains indicate aregular presence in winter, while some may point to (shorter?) visits up to May orfrom October. This again contrasts with the find of several articulated skeletonsof young puppies which may have ended up in the water during an unguardedmoment.From time to temporalityMany of the temporalities at Bergschenhoek probably mattered and were meaningfulto the group of inhabitants in deep winter. They structured their activities at thesmall station and they in turn were structured by the material aspects of previousvisits (e.g. the hearth, hut and platform), at the same time introducing new objects,discarding others and changing and renewing what was there.6 Bergschenhoek isthus a palimpsest of coexisting time scales, repeated practices and different ratesof durability and renewal. Incorporating this multilayered temporality insteadof perceiving the past as static broadens our appreciation of what happened inthe past and provides a deeper understanding of how people in the past dealtwith time and memory (see Ingold 1993, 171; Thomas 1996b, Chapters 2-4; butsee also Louwe Kooijmans 2000, 324). The appreciation of this variety of timescales as well as directing apposite questions at the right temporal scales, has beenreferred to as time-perspectivism (Bailey 2007; Lucas 2005, 43).While perception of time is culturally specific and historically contingent(Gell 1992; Munn 1992), an important handle on time may be implicit in theway material culture is organized. The way in which a society views the world isinextricably linked to its material relations with that world which encapsulateconceptual, symbolic or cognitive aspects of society as well as technology oreconomy (Lucas 2005, 67). In this sense the temporal structure in which pastactivities (e.g. building, harvesting, rituals, mobility, burial) are embeddedand recur is also informative on past perceptions (ibid. 68-69). The repetitivecharacter and mnemonic aspects of these activities (and related objects, structures,performances and material culture; see Jones 2007; Rowlands 1993), although noteasily inferred from the material record, bring us closer to social memory and itsrole in cultural reproduction over time.7 In reference to this the example of the siteof Bergschenhoek might again be illustrative.Revisiting BergschenhoekThe location of Bergschenhoek was probably embedded in cyclical culturalpractices as the site was visited for several consecutive winters. These will havebeen expeditions involving quite some preparation, materialized in practiceswhich were typical for the winter. Being involved in these practices might havebeen emblematic for and have triggered memories of the lean season, a potentialtime of hardship. It might have evoked memories of previous years and deceased?individuals and have formed the incentive for rituals.The frequent renewal of the hearth at the site is related to the daily or weeklyrepertoire of activities. Renewing the hearth could have marked the beginning ofthe stay and it formed the centre of repetitive activities such as the curation of

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tools and the processing of hunted animals, activities which had a temporality andrepetitiveness of their own. The hearth might also have formed the focus for thetelling of stories and myths about the past or ancestors and thus for a less tangibleconstruction of time related to cosmology.Activity at Bergschenhoek was not endless, however. The decision to abandonthe use of this location may have been down to deteriorating local circumstances(cf. Schlanger 1992). It might also have related to a repetitive shift in mobility,involving a large-scale move of the entire settlement system every couple ofdecennia (see Binford 1983(1983), 379-386). The memory of the use of theBergschenhoek location or one of its episodes could thus in this sense be linearand regain an aspect of cyclicity at the time the location was visited again (whichceased when the site was abandoned for good). In the same sense the axe fragmentwas probably part of an object that went through similar cycles of storage, use andcuration, eventually ending in broken fashion at the site; again, a linear sense oftime. At the same time, however, the end of the axe might have fueled the need toacquire a new one, which was probably dependent on the frequency of exchangerelationships and the acquisition of axes through these.From temporality to memoryIt is through the repetition of habitual practice ranging from rituals to ordinaryphysical tasks that the structure and fabric of society is handed down to andover consecutive generations (see Bourdieu 1977; Jones 2007; Rowlands 1993).Whittle (2003, 22), drawing on Giddens (1984, 50), in this sense speaks of theontological security embedded in routines. At the same time this repetitionand the nature in which both linear and cyclical time are dealt with becomesinformative on the character of social memory.Social memory and a past sense of the past can thus be created and continuedboth through (often subconscious) habitual practices or deliberate commemorativeevents (e.g. Gerritsen 2008, 144). The character of (social) memory can becomplicated and diverse (see Whittle 2003, 107-118). A better understanding ofthe communities involved is arrived at when we try to perceive and understandthe continuity and the change in these repetitive practices (cf. Lucas 2005, 83-92).This calls for an appreciation of the past as an active influence instead of a staticbackdrop (Barrett 2000, 67; Brck 2005) to the various activities and practicesperformed (including construction, sacrifice, abandonment etc. as well as skillsexercised; Rowlands 1993, 146). The physicality of the past in this respect, thematerial traces that are preserved, may form important references of past eventsand locations for the orientation of repetitive practice (Jones 2007, 18-23). Bytriggering memory and forming a focus for actions, objects, structures and placestied people to their past, while repetitive practices formed a strong reiterationor reference between past and present (ibid., 55), forging a sense of identity (seeWhittle 2003, 22; see also Thomas 2000a).The addition of this temporal aspect might be informative on the constellation ofconservative and progressive elements within the studied communities, somethingthat is elementary in trying to understand the gradual process of Neolithisationin the Lower Rhine Area and the choices for the adoption of certain elements.It emphasizes the relationship between short- and medium-term practices andlonger term trends and as such opens a window onto the discovery of long-termhabitus and a characterization of these communities over time.

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6.4 Structure, agency and continuity

men [sic] make their own history, but they do not make it just as they please, theydo not make it under circumstances chosen by themselves, but under circumstancesdirectly encountered, given and transmitted from the past. (Marx 1963, 15(1869), cited in Dobres/Robb 2000, 5).

The changes and temporality characterising the transition to agriculture in the

LRA wetlands need to be understood within the perspective of the (successionof ) communities involved. This means a focus on the mechanisms of changeand stability in society and the way in which these enabled the incorporation ofelements from the Neolithic repertoire. To understand these processes it is usefulto focus on the concepts and interplay of structure and agency and their role insocietal change.I will not use structure and agency as synonyms for process and event. Whilethe latter terms help to understand the structure and temporality of history asoutlined above, they are not informative as to the dynamics underlying thatstructuring. In the same manner processes cannot be seen as conditional or causalfor events because events cannot be seen as consequential of processes since thelatter are generated through the working of events. Causes cannot be their ownconsequences (Barrett 2004, 12-14). From an archaeological perspective thismeans that a long-term sequencing of material culture cannot be regarded asthe structuring of history, since it does not account for the moments in whichthe structuring is actually realized (ibid.). In line with the argument of time andtemporality outlined above, Barrett (2004, 15) therefore speaks of a structuring ofhistory from which temporalities are formed. As such, process beco